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(5.  ip.  putnam'6  Song 


Copyright,  1898 

BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

Set  up  and  electrotyped,  Sept.,  1898.  Reprinted, 
Dec,  1898  ;  July,  1899  ;  Oct.,  1899  ;  Dec,  1899 ; 
April,  1900,  (twice)  ;  June,  1900. 


Ube  ftnickerboclier  fiveee,  Dew  ll?ocft 


Annex 


CONTENTS 

1    GEORGE  WASHINGTON 

PAGE 
1 

2    BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN 

41 

3    ALEXANDER  HAMILTON 

71 

4   SAMUEL  ADAMS    .       . 

117 

5    JOHN  HANCOCK  .      . 

145 

6    JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS 

187 

7    THOMAS  JEFFERSON  . 

223 

8    DANIEL  WEBSTER        . 

259 

9    HENRY  CLAY  .       .      . 

295 

10   JOHN  JAY        ... 

327 

11    WILLIAM  H.  SEWARD 

363 

12    ABRAHAA1  LINCOLN    . 

395 

ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

ALEXANDER  HAMILTON  .  Frontispiece 
From  a  painting  by  John  Trumbull. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON      .      .      .      •      ^ 

After  a  painting  by  Gilbert  Stuart. 

EARLY  HOME  OF  WASHINGTON 
FAMILY '° 

Redrawn  from  an  old  print. 

FIELD  SPORTS  -  WASHINGTON  AND 
FAIRFAX " 

From  a  design  by  F.  O.  Darley. 

HOUSE  AT  KINGSTON,  NEW  YORK,  IN 
WHICH  THE  CONSTITUTION  OF 
THE  STATE  WAS  DRAWN  UP  .       .     ^8 

Redrawn  from  Barber's  "  Historical  Collec- 
tion." 

WASHINGTON'S  SIGNATURES ...     34 
BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN  .....     4^ 

After  the  print  reproduced  from  the  drawing 
of  Cochin. 


iruuetrations 

PAGE 

FRANKLIN'S  PUZZLE-HOW  TO  MAKE 
MONEY 52 

Reproduced  from   a   copper-plate  print   by 
courtesy  of  Mrs.  Frances  H.  Hoyt. 

FRANKLIN'S  ELECTRICAL  MACHINE.     64 

Owned  by  the  Franklin  Institute. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN  .... 

From  a  painting  by  Charles  Willson  Peale 
owned  by  the  Historical  Society  of  Penii' 
sylvania. 

HOME  OF  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON 
WASHINGTON  HEIGHTS,  NEW 
YORK 


MONUMENT  TO  HAMILTON,  TRINITY 
CHURCHYARD,  NEW  YORK       . 

SAMUEL  ADAMS     .... 

From  a  steel  engraving. 

SAMUEL  ADAMS 

After  the  painting  by  Chappel. 


JOHN  HANCOCK   . 

From  a  steel  engraving. 


HANCOCK'S  HOMESTEAD,  BOSTON 

JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS      .       .      . 
From  a  steel  engraving. 


94 
118 


146 


164 


fllliistrattoiis 

PAGE 

THE  COTTAGE  OF  JOHN  AND  ABIGAIL 
ADAMS '96 

SLEEPING     CHAMBER     OF     JOHN 

QUINCY  ADAMS '^^ 

THE  OLD   KITCHEN,  IN  THE  ADAMS 
COTTAGE "8 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON "4 

From  a  steel  engraving. 

FAC-SIMILE   OF   LETTER    FROM   JEF- 
FERSON TO  MONROE  .      .      .      .234 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON 244 

After  a  painting  by  Chappel. 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON ^5° 

From  the  original  bust  from  a  life  mask 
taken  at  Monticello,  October  15,  1825,  by 
J.  H.  L  Browere.  By  permission  of  Mc- 
Clure's  Magazine. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER 26° 

From  a  steel  engraving. 

STATUE    OF    WEBSTER,    CENTRAL 
PARK,  NEW  YORK ^78 

HENRY  CLAY  *96 

From  a  steel  engraving. 

BIRTHPLACE  OF  HENRY  CLAY     .      .    3°^ 

vii 


miustrations 


PAGE 

ASHLAND,  HOME  OF  HENRY  CLAY    .    3>4 
JOHN  JAY 328 

From  a  steel  engraving. 

HOME  OF  JOHN  JAY,  KATONAH,  N.  Y.    348 
WILLIAM  H.  SEWARD  ...  .364 

From  a  steel  engraving. 

STATUE  OF   SEWARD,  MADISON 
SQUARE,  NEW  YORK    .       .       .       .380 

FIRST  READING  OF  THE   EMANCIPA- 
TION PROCLAMATION.       .       .       .39° 

From  a  painting  by  F.  B.  Carpenter. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN    ....  39^ 

From  a  wood-cut  by  Grosch. 

LINCOLN'S  EARLY  HOME        .      .      .402 

LINCOLN'S     WRESTLE     WITH    ARM- 
STRONG        410 

From  a  drawing  by  Alfred  Frederick. 

FAC-SIMILE  OF  LINCOLN'S  GETTYS- 
BURG ADDRESS 426 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON 


He  left  as  fair  a  reputation  as  ever  belonged  to 
a  human  character.  .  .  .  Midst  all  the  sorrow- 
ings that  are  mingled  on  this  melancholy  occa- 
sion I  venture  to  assert  that  none  could  have  felt 
his  death  with  more  regret  than  I,  because  no  one 
had  higher  opinions  of  his  worth.  .  .  .  There 
is  this  consolation,  though,  to  be  drawn,  that 
while  living  no  man  could  be  more  esteemed,  and 
since  dead  none  is  more  lamented. 

Washington  on  the  death  of  Tilghman. 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


DEAN  STANLEY  has  said  that  all 
the  gods  of  ancient  mythology 
were  once  men,  and  he  traces  for 
us  the  evolution  of  a  man  into  a  hero,  the 
hero  into  a  demi-god,  and  the  demi-god 
into  a  divinity.  By  a  slow  process  the 
natural  man  is  divested  of  all  our  common 
faults  and  frailties  ;  he  is  clothed  with 
superhuman  attributes  and  declared  a 
being  separate  and  apart,  and  is  lost  to  us 
in  the  clouds. 

When  Greenough  carved  that  statue  of 
Washington  that  sits  facing  the  Capitol, 
he  unwittingly  showed  how  a  man  may 
be  transformed  into  a  Jove. 
3 


Oeorge  Timaebington 


But  the  world  has  reached  a  point  when 
to  be  human  is  no  longer  a  cause  for 
apology  ;  we  recognize  that  the  human, 
in  degree,  comprehends  the  divine. 

Jove  inspires  fear,  but  to  Washington 
we  pay  the  tribute  of  affection.  Beings 
hopelessly  separated  from  us  are  not  ours  : 
a  god  we  cannot  love,  a  man  we  may. 
We  know  Washington  as  well  as  it  is  pos- 
sible to  know  any  man.  We  know  him 
better,  far  better,  than  the  people  who 
lived  in  the  very  household  with  him. 
We  have  his  diary  showing  "how  and 
where  I  spent  my  time";  we  have  his 
journal,  his  account-books  (and  no  man 
was  ever  a  more  painstaking  accountant) ; 
we  have  hundreds  of  his  letters,  and  his 
own  copies  and  first  drafts  of  hundreds  of 
others,  the  originals  of  which  have  been 
lost  or  destroyed. 

From  these,  with  contemporary  history, 
we  are  able  to  make  up  a  close  estimate 
of  the  man  ;  and  we  find  him  human — 
splendidly  human.  By  his  books  of 
accounts  we  find  that  he  was  often  imposed 
4 


©corge  Masbington 


upon — that  he  loaned  thousands  of  dollars 
to  people  who  had  no  expectation  of  pay- 
ing ;  and  in  his  last  will,  written  with  his 
own  hand,  we  find  him  cancelling  these 
debts,  and  making  bequests  to  scores  of 
relatives  ;  giving  freedom  to  his  slaves, 
and  acknowledging  his  obligation  to  ser- 
vants and  various  obscure  persons.  He 
was  a  man  in  very  sooth.  He  was  a  man 
in  that  he  had  in  him  the  appetites,  the 
ambitions,  the  desires  of  a  man.  Stewart, 
the  artist,  has  said,  "All  of  his  features 
were  indications  of  the  strongest  and 
most  ungovernable  passions,  and  had  he 
been  born  in  the  forest,  he  would  have 
been  the  fiercest  man  among  savage 
tribes." 

But  over  the  sleeping  volcano  of  his 
temper  he  kept  watch  and  ward,  until  his 
habit  became  one  of  gentleness,  gener- 
osity, and  shining,  simple  truth ;  and 
behind  all  we  behold  his  unswerving 
purpose  and  steadfast  strength. 

And  so  the  object  of  this  sketch  will 
be,  not  to  show  the  superhuman  Wash- 
5 


©corge  Masbington 


ington,  the  Washington  set  apart,  but  to 
give  a  glimpse  of  the  man  Washington 
who  aspired,  feared,  hoped,  loved,  and 
bravely  died. 


II. 


THE  first  biographer  of  George  Wash- 
ington was  the  Rev.  Mason  L. 
Weenis.  If  you  have  a  copy  of 
Weems's  Life  of  Washington  you  had 
better  wrap  it  in  chamois  and  place  it  away 
for  your  heirs,  for  some  time  it  will  com- 
mand a  price.  Fifty  editions  of  Weems's 
book  were  printed,  and  in  its  day  no  other 
volume  approached  it  in  point  of  popular- 
ity. In  American  literature  Weems  stood 
first.  To  Weems  are  we  indebted  for  the 
hatchet  tale,  the  story  of  the  colt  that  was 
broken  and  killed  in  the  process,  and  all 
those  other  fine  romances  of  Washington's 
youth .  Weems' s  literary  style  reveals  th  e 
very  acme  of  that  vicious  quality  of  un- 
truth to  be  found  in  the  old-time  Sunday- 
school  books.  Weems  mustered  all  the 
"Little   Willie"   stories   he  could  find, 


©corge  TKHasbington 


and  attached  to  them  Washington's  name, 
claiming  to  write  for  "  the  Betterment  of 
the  Young,"  as  if  in  dealing  with  the 
young  we  should  carefully  conceal  the 
truth.  Possibly  Washington  could  not 
tell  a  lie,  but  Weems  was  not  thus 
handicapped. 

Under  a  mass  of  silly  moralizing  he 
nearly  buried  the  real  Washington  ;  giv- 
ing us  instead  a  priggish,  punk  youth,  and 
a  Madame  Tussaud  full-dress  general, 
with  a  wax-works  manner  and  wooden 
dignity. 

Happily  we  have  now  come  to  a  time 
when  such  authors  as  Mason  L.  Weems 
and  John  S.  C.  Abbott  are  no  longer 
accepted  as  final  authorities.  We  do  not 
discard  them,  but,  like  Samuel  Pepys, 
they  are  retained  that  they  may  contribute 
to  the  gayety  of  nations. 

Various  violent  efforts  have  been  made 
in  days  agone  to  show  that  Washington 
was  of  "  a  noble  line"— as  if  the  natural 
nobility  of  the  man  needed  a  reason — 
forgetful  that  we  are  all  sons  of  God,  and 
8 


©corge  TlClasbington 


it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be. 
But  Burke's  Peerage  lends  no  light,  and 
the  careful,  unprejudiced,  patient  search 
of  recent  years  finds  only  the  blue  blood 
of  the  common  people. 

Washington  himself  said  that  in  his 
opinion  the  history  of  his  ancestors  "  was 
of  small  moment  and  a  subject  to  which, 
I  confess,  I  have  paid  little  attention." 

He  had  a  book-plate  and  he  had  also  a 
coat  of  arms  on  his  carriage  door.  Mr. 
Weems  has  described  Washington's  book- 
plate thus:  "Argent,  two  bars  gules  in 
chief,  three  nmllets  of  the  second.  Crest, 
a  raven  with  wings,  indorsed  proper,  issu- 
ing out  of  a  ducal  coronet,  or." 


III. 

MARY  BALIv  was  the  second  wife 
of  Augustine  Washington.  In 
his  will  the  good  man  describes 
this  marriage,  evidently  with  a  wink,  as 
"my  second  Venture."  And  it  is  sad  to 
remember  that  he  did  not  live  to  know 
that  his  "Venture"  made  America  his 
debtor.  The  success  of  the  union  seems 
pretty  good  argument  in  favor  of  widow- 
ers marrying.  There  were  four  children 
in  the  family,  the  oldest  nearly  full 
grown,  when  Mary  Ball  came  to  take 
charge  of  the  household.  She  was  twenty- 
seven,  her  husband  ten  years  older.  They 
were  married  March  6,  1731,  and  on 
February  22d  of  the  following  year  was 
born  a  man-child  and  they  named  him 
George. 

The    Washingtons   were    plain,    hard- 
10 


©eorqe  "GQasbington 


working  people— land  poor.  They  lived 
in  a  small  bouse  that  had  three  rooms 
down-stairs  and  an  attic,  where  the  chil- 
dren slept  and  bumped  their  heads 
against  the  rafters  if  they  sat  up  quickly 
in  bed. 

Washington  got  his  sterling  qualities 
from  the  Ball  family  and  not  from  the 
tribe  of  Washington.  George  was  en- 
dowed by  his  mother  with  her  own  splen- 
did health  and  all  the  sturdy  Spartan 
virtues  of  her  mind.  In  features  and 
mental  characteristics  he  resembled  her 
very  closely.  There  were  six  children 
born  to  her  in  all,  but  the  five  have  been 
nearly  lost  sight  of  in  the  splendid  success 
of  the  first-born . 

I  have  used  the  word  "  Spartan  "  ad- 
visedly. Upon  her  children  the  mother 
of  Washington  lavished  no  soft  senti- 
mentality. A  woman  who  cooked, 
weaved,  spun,  washed,  made  the  clothes, 
and  looked  after  a  big  family  in  pioneer 
times  had  her  work  cut  out  for  her. 
The  children  of  Mary  Washington  obeyed 


©eorgc  TKHasbington 


her,  and  when  told  to  do  a  thing  never 
stopped  to  ask  why — and  the  same  fact 
may  be  said  of  the  father. 

The  girls  wore  linsey-woolsey  dresses, 
and  the  boys  tow  suits  that  consisted  of 
two  pieces,  which  in  winter  were  further 
added  to  by  hat  and  boots.  If  the  weather 
was  very  cold  the  suits  were  simply  dupli- 
cated— a  boy  wearing  two  or  three  pairs 
of  trousers  instead  of  one. 

The  mother  was  the  first  one  up  in  the 
morning,  the  last  one  to  go  to  rest  at 
night.  If  a  youngster  kicked  off  the 
covers  in  his  sleep  and  had  a  coughing 
spell  she  arose  and  looked  after  him. 
Were  any  sick  she  not  only  ministered  to 
them,  but  often  watched  away  the  long 
dragging  hours  of  night. 

And  I  have  noticed  that  these  sturdy 
mothers  in  Israel  who  so  willingly  give 
their  lives  that  others  may  live  often  find 
vent  for  over-wrought  feelings  by  scold- 
ing ;  and  I,  for  one,  cheerfully  grant  them 
the  privilege.  Washington's  mother 
scolded  and  grumbled  to  the  day  of  her 

12 


©eoi-ge  THHasbington 


death.  She  also  sought  solace  by  smok- 
ing a  pipe.  And  this  reminds  me  that  a 
noted  specialist  in  neurotics  has  recently 
said  that  if  women  would  use  the  weed 
moderately,  tired  nerves  would  find  re- 
pose and  nervous  prostration  would  be  a 
luxury  unknown.  Not  being  much  of 
a  smoker  myself,  and  knowing  nothing 
about  the  subject,  1  give  the  item  for 
what  it  is  worth. 

All  the  sterling,  classic  virtues  of  indus- 
try, frugality,  and  truth-telling  were  in- 
culcated by  this  excellent  mother,  and 
her  strong  common  sense  made  its  indel- 
ible impress  upon  the  mind  of  her  son. 

Mary  Washington  always  regarded 
George's  judgment  with  a  little  sus- 
picion ;  she  never  came  to  think  of  him  as 
a  full-grown  man  ;  to  her  he  was  only  a  big 
boy.  Hence  she  would  chide  him  and 
criticise  his  actions  in  a  way  that  often 
made  him  very  uncomfortable.  During 
the  Revolutionary  War  she  followed  his 
record  closely  ;  when  he  succeeded  she 
only  smiled,  said  something  that  sounded 
13 


©eorcje  TlGlasbtnaton 

like  "  I  told  you  so,"  and  calmly  filled  her 
pipe  ;  when  he  was  repulsed  she  was 
never  cast  down.  She  foresaw  that  he 
would  be  made  President,  and  thought 
"he  would  do  as  well  as  anybody." 

Once  she  complained  to  him  of  her 
house  in  Fredericksburg  ;  he  wrote  in  an- 
swer, gently  but  plainly,  that  her  habits 
of  life  were  not  such  as  would  be  ac- 
ceptable at  Mount  Vernon.  And  to  this 
she  replied  that  she  had  never  expected 
or  intended  to  go  to  Mount  Vernon, 
and  moreover  would  not,  no  matter  how 
much  urged — a  declination  without  an 
invitation  that  must  have  caused  the  son 
a  grim  smile.  In  her  nature  was  a  goodly 
trace  of  savage  stoicism  that  took  a  satis- 
faction in  concealing  the  joy  she  felt  in 
her  son's  achievement :  for  that  her  life 
was  all  bound  up  in  his  we  have  good 
evidence.  Washington  looked  after  her 
wants  and  supplied  her  with  everything 
she  needed,  and  as  these  things  often 
came  through  third  parties,  it  is  pretty 
certain  she  did  not  know  the  source  ;  at 
14 


(Seorge  Tldasbington 


any  rate  she  accepted  everything  quite 
as  her  due,  and  shows  a  half-comic  ingrat- 
itude that  is  very  fine. 

When  Washington  started  for  New 
York  to  be  inaugurated  President  he 
stopped  to  see  her.  She  donned  a  new 
white  cap  and  a  clean  apron  in  honor 
of  the  visit,  remarking  to  a  neighbor 
woman  who  dropped  in  that  she  sup- 
posed "  these  great  folks  expected  some- 
thing a  little  extra."  It  was  the  last 
meeting  of  mother  and  son.  She  was 
eighty -three  at  that  time  and  "  her  boy  " 
fifty-five.     She  died  not  long  after. 

Samuel  Washington,  the  brother  two 
years  younger  than  George,  has  been 
described  as  "small,  sandy- whiskered, 
shrewd  and  glib."  Samuel  was  married 
five  times.  Some  of  the  wives  he  de- 
serted and  others  deserted  him  and  two 
of  them  died,  thus  leaving  him  twice  a 
sad,  lorn  widower,  from  which  condition 
he  quickly  extricated  himself.  He  was 
always  in  financial  straits  and  often  ap- 
pealed to  his  brother  George  for  loans. 
15 


In  1781,  we  find  George  Washington 
writing  to  his  brother  John,  "  In  God's 
name !  how  has  Samuel  managed  to  get 
himself  so  enormously  in  debt?"  The 
remark  sounds  a  little  like  that  of  Sam- 
uel Johnson,  who  on  hearing  that  Gold- 
smith was  owing  four  hundred  pounds 
exclaimed,  "Was  ever  poet  so  trusted 
before  ?  " 

Washington's  ledger  shows  that  he 
advanced  his  brother  Samuel  two  thou- 
sand dollars,  "  to  be  paid  back  without  in- 
terest." But  Samuel's  ship  never  came 
in,  and  in  Washington's  will  we  find  the 
debt  graciously  and  gracefully  discharged. 

Thornton  Washington,  a  son  of  Samuel, 
was  given  a  place  in  the  English  army  at 
George  Washington's  request ;  and  two 
other  sons  of  Samuel  were  sent  to  school 
at  his  expense.  One  of  the  boys  once 
ran  away  and  was  followed  by  his  uncle 
George,  who  carried  a  goodly  birch  with 
intent  to  "  give  him  what  he  deserved  "  ; 
but  after  catching  the  lad  the  uncle's 
heart  melted,  and  he  took  the  runaway 
16 


(Beorge  TKHasbincjton 


back  into  favor.  An  entry  in  Washing- 
ton's journal  shows  that  the  children  of 
his  brother  Samuel  cost  him  full  five 
thousand  dollars. 

Harriot,  one  of  the  daughters  of  Sam- 
uel, lived  in  the  household  at  Mount 
Vernon  and  evidently  was  a  great  cross, 
for  we  find  Washington  pleading  as  an 
excuse  for  her  frivolity  that  "  she  was  not 
brung  up  right,  she  has  no  disposition, 
and  takes  no  care  of  her  clothes,  which  are 
dabbed  about  in  every  corner  and  the  best 
are  always  in  use.  She  costs  me  enough  !  " 
And  this  was  about  as  near  a  complaint 
as  the  Father  of  his  Country  and  the 
father  of  all  his  poor  relations  ever  made. 
In  his  ledger  we  find  this  item  :  "  By  Miss 
Harriot  Washington,  gave  her  to  buy 
wedding  clothes  |ioo.oo."  It  supplied  the 
great  man  joy  to  write  that  line,  for  it 
was  the  last  of  Harriot.  He  furnished  a 
fine  wedding  for  her  and  all  of  the  ser- 
vants had  a  holiday,  and  Harriot  and  her 
unknown  lover  were  happy  ever  after- 
wards— so  far  as  we  know. 
17 


©eorgc  iKIlasbington 


From  1750  to  1759  Washington  was  a 
soldier  on  the  frontier,  leaving  Mount  Ver- 
non and  all  of  his  business  in  charge  of  his 
brother  John .  Between  these  two  there 
was  a  genuine  bond  of  affection.  To 
George  this  brother  was  always,  "  Dear 
Jack,"  and  when  John  married,  George 
sends  "respectful  greetings  to  your 
Lady,"  and  afterwards  "  love  to  the 
little  ones  from  their  Uncle."  And  in 
one  of  the  dark  hours  of  the  Revolution 
George  writes  from  New  Jersey  to  this 
brother:  "God  grant  you  health  and 
happiness.  Nothing  in  this  world  would 
add  so  to  mine  as  to  be  near  you." 
John  died  in  1787  and  the  President  of  the 
United  States  writes  in  simple  undis- 
guised grief  of  "  the  death  of  my  beloved 
brother." 

John's  eldest  son,  Bushrod,  was  Wash- 
ington's favorite  nephew.  He  took  a 
lively  interest  in  the  boy's  career  and 
taking  him  to  Philadelphia  placed  him 
in  the  law  office  of  Judge  James  Wilson. 
He  supplied   Bushrod  with   funds,   and 


(George  IKIlasbingtoh 


wrote  him  many  affectionate  letters  of 
advice,  and  several  times  made  him  a 
companion  on  journeys.  The  boy  proved 
worthy  of  it  all  and  developed  into  a 
strong  and  manly  man  —  quite  the  best 
of  all  Washington's  kinsfolk.  In  later 
years  we  find  Washington  asking  bis 
advice  in  legal  matters  and  excusing 
himself  for  being  such  a  "troublesome, 
non-paying  client."  In  his  will  the 
"  Hon.  Bushrod  Washington  "  is  named 
as  one  of  the  executors,  and  to  him  Wash- 
ington left  his  library,  all  of  his  private 
papers,  besides  a  share  in  the  estate. 
Such  confidence  was  a  fitting  good-bye 
from  the  great  and  loving  heart  of  a  father 
to  a  son  full  worthy  of  the  highest  trust. 
Of  Washington's  relations  with  his 
brother  Charles  we  know  but  little. 
Charles  was  a  plain,  simple  man  who 
worked  hard  and  raised  a  big  family.  In 
his  will  Washington  remembers  them  all, 
and  one  of  the  sons  of  Charles  we  know 
was  appointed  to  a  position  upon  Lafay- 
ette's staflF  on  Washington's  request. 
19 


(Beorgc  TKHasF3ington 


The  only  one  of  Washington's  family 
that  resembled  him  closely  was  his  sister 
Betty.  The  contour  of  her  face  was 
almost  identical  with  his,  and  she  was 
so  proud  of  it  that  she  often  wore  her 
hair  in  a  cue  and  donned  his  hat  and 
sword  for  the  amusement  of  visitors. 
Betty  married  Fielding  Lewis,  and  two 
of  her  sons  acted  as  private  secretaries  to 
Washington  while  he  was  President. 
One  of  these  sons — Lawrence  Lewis- 
married  Nellie  Custis,  the  adopted 
daughter  of  Washington  and  grand- 
daughter of  Mrs.  Washington,  and  the 
couple,  by  Washington's  will,  became 
part  owners  of  Mount  Veinon.  The  man 
who  can  figure  out  the  exact  relationship 
of  Nellie  Custis's  children  to  Washington 
deserves  a  medal. 

We  "do  not  know  much  of  Washington's 
father  :  if  he  exerted  any  special  influence 
on  his  children  we  do  not  know  it.  He 
died  when  George  was  eleven  years  old, 
and  the  boy  then  went  to  live  at  the 
"Hunting  Creek  Place"  with  his  half- 
20 


©eorge  IKflaebtngton 


brother  Lawrence,  that  he  might  attend 
school.  L,awrence  had  served  in  the  En- 
glish army  under  Admiral  Vernon,  and 
in  honor  of  his  chief,  changed  the  name 
of  his  home  and  called  it  Mount  Vernon. 
Mount  Vernon  then  consisted  of  twenty- 
five  hundred  acres,  mostly  a  tangle  of  for- 
est, with  a  small  house  and  log  stables. 
The  tract  had  descended  to  Lawrence  from 
his  father,  with  provision  that  it  should 
fall  to  George  if  Lawrence  died  without 
issue.  Lawrence  married,  and  when  he 
died,  aged  thirty-two,  he  left  a  daughter, 
Mildred,  who  died  two  years  later. 
Mount  Vernon  then  passed  to  George 
Washington,  aged  twenty-one,  but  not 
without  a  protest  from  the  widow  of  Law- 
rence, who  evidently  was  paid  a  certain 
sum  not  to  take  the  matter  into  the  courts. 
Washington  owned  Mount  Vernon  for 
forty-six  years,  just  one  half  of  which 
time  was  given  to  the  service  of  his  coun- 
try. It  was  the  only  place  he  ever  called 
"  home,"  and  there  he  sleeps. 


IV. 

WHEN  Washiugton  was  fourteen, 
his  school-days  were  over.  Of 
his  youth  we  know  but  little. 
He  was  not  precocious,  although  physi- 
cally he  developed  early  ;  but  there  was 
no  reason  why  the  neighbors  should  keep 
tab  ou  him  and  record  anecdotes.  They 
had  boys  of  their  own  just  as  promising. 
He  was  tall  and  slender,  long-armed,  with 
large,  bony  hands  and  feet,  very  strong, 
a  daring  horseman,  a  good  wrestler,  and 
living  on  the  banks  of  a  river,  he  be- 
came, as  all  healthy  boys  must,  a  good 
swimmer. 

His  mission  among  the  Indians  in  his 
twenty-first  year  was  largely  successful 
through  the  personal  admiration  he  ex- 
cited among  the  savages.  In  poise,  he 
was  equal  to  their  best,  and  ever  being  a 
bit  proud,  even  if  not  vain,  he  dressed  for 

22 


(BcovQC  "Masbimtow 


the  occasion  in  full  Indian  regalia,  minus 
only  the  war-paint.  The  Indians  at  once 
recognized  his  nobility,  and  named  him 
"  Conotancarius" — Plunderer  of  Villages 
— and  suggested  that  he  take  to  wife  an 
Indian  maiden,  and  remain  with  them 
as  chief. 

When  he  returned  home,  he  wrote  to 
the  Indian  agent,  announcing  his  safe  ar- 
rival, and  sending  greetings  to  the  In- 
dians. "Tell  them,"  he  says,  "how 
happy  it  would  make  Conotauc.rius  to 
see  them,  and  take  them  by  the  hand." 

His  wish  was  gratified,  for  the  Indians 
took  him  at  his  word,  and  fifty  of  them 
came  to  him,  saying,  "Since  j'ou  could 
not  come  and  live  with  us,  we  have  come 
to  live  with  you."  They  camped  on  the 
green  in  front  of  the  residence,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  inspect  every  room  in  the 
house,  tested  all  the  whiskey  they  could 
find,  appropriated  eatables,  and  were 
only  induced  to  depart  after  all  the  bed- 
clothes had  been  dyed  red,  and  a  blanket 
or  a  quilt  presented  to  each. 
23 


©eorge  "Cmasbitiflton 


Throughout  his  life  Washington  had  a 
very  tender  spot  in  his  heart  for  women. 
At  sixteen  he  writes  with  all  a  youth's 
solemnity  of  "  a  hurt  of  the  heart  uncura- 
ble."  And  from  that  time  forward  there 
is  ever  some  "  Faire  Mayde  "to  be  seen 
in  the  shadow.  In  fact  Washington  got 
along  with  women  much  better  than  with 
men  ;  with  men  he  was  often  diffident 
and  awkward,  illy  concealing  his  uneasi- 
ness behind  a  forced  dignity  ;  but  he  knew 
that  women  admired  him  and  with  them 
he  was  at  ease.  When  he  made  that  first 
Western  trip,  carrying  a  message  to  the 
French,  he  turns  aside  to  call  on  the  In- 
dian princess,  Aliguippa.  In  his  journal 
he  says,  "presented  her  a  Blanket  and  a 
Bottle  of  Rum,  which  latter  was  thought 
the  much  best  Present  of  the  2." 

In  his  expense  account  we  find  items 
like  these:  "Treating  the  ladys  two 
shillings."  "  Present  for  Polly  5  shil- 
lings." "My  share  for  Music  at  the 
Dance  3  shillings."  "Lost  at  Loo  5 
shillings."  In  fact,  like  most  Episcopa- 
24 


©eorgc  TlUlat>blnciton 


lians,  Washington  danced  and  played 
cards.  His  favorite  game  seems  to  have 
been  "  Loo  "  ;  and  he  generally  played 
for  small  stakes,  and  when  playing  with 
"thel^adys"  usually  lost,  whether  pur- 
posely or  because  otherwise  absorbed,  we 
know  not. 

In  1756,  he  made  a  horseback  journey 
on  military  business  to  Boston,  stopping 
a  week  going  and  on  the  way  back  at  New 
York.  He  spent  the  time  at  the  house  of  a 
former  Virginian,  Beverly  Robinson,  who 
had  married  Susannah  Philipse,  daughter 
of  Frederick  Philipse,  one  of  the  rich 
men  of  Manhattan.  In  the  household 
was  a  young  woman,  Mary  Philipse,  sis- 
ter of  the  hostess.  She  was  older  than 
Washington,  educated,  and  had  seen 
much  more  of  polite  life  than  he.  The 
tall  young  Virginian,  fresh  from  the 
frontier,  where  he  had  had  horses  shot 
under  him,  excited  the  interest  of  Mary 
Philipse,  and  Washington,  innocent  but 
ardent,  mistook  this  natural  curiosity  for 
a  softer  sentiment  and  proposed  on  the 
25 


6eorge  Tlinasbington 


spot.  As  soon  as  the  lady  got  her  breath 
he  was  let  down  very  gently. 

Two  years  afterwards  Mary  Philipse 
married  Col.  Roger  Morris,  in  the  king's 
service,  and  cards  were  duly  sent  to 
Mount  Vernon.  But  the  whirligig  of 
time  equalizes  all  things,  and,  in  1776, 
General  Washington,  Commander  of  the 
Continental  Army,  occupied  the  mansion 
of  Colonel  Morris,  the  Colonel  and  his 
iady  being  fugitive  Tories.  In  his  diary, 
Washington  records  this  significant  item: 
"Dined  at  the  house  lately  Col.  Roger 
Morris  confiscated  and  the  occupation 
of  a  common  Farmer." 

Washington  always  attributed  his  de- 
feat at  the  hands  of  Mary  Philipse  to 
being  too  precipitate  and  "  not  waiting 
until  ye  ladye  was  in  ye  mood."  But 
two  years  later  we  find  him  being  even 
more  hasty  and  this  time  with  success, 
which  proves  that  all  signs  fail  in  dry 
weather  and  some  things  are  possible  as 
well  as  others.  He  was  on  his  way  to 
Williamsburg  to  consult  physicians  and 
26 


©corge  "CClaebington 


stopped  at  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Daniel 
Parke  Custis  to  make  a  short  call— was 
pressed  to  remain  to  tea,  did  so,  proposed 
marriage,  and  was  graciously  accepted. 
We  have  a  beautiful  steel  engraving  that 
immortalizes  this  visit,  showing  Wash- 
ington's horse  impatiently  waiting  at  the 
door. 

Mrs.  Custis  was  a  widow  with  two 
children.  She  was  twenty-six,  and  the 
same  age  as  Washington  within  three 
months.  Her  husband  had  died  seven 
months  before.  In  Washington's  cash 
account  for  May,  1758,  is  an  item,  "one 
Engagement  Ring  ^2,16.0." 

The  happy  couple  were  married  eight 
mouths  later,  and  we  find  Mrs.  Washing- 
ton explaining  to  a  friend  that  her  reason 
for  the  somewhat  hasty  union  was  that 
her  estate  was  getting  in  a  bad  way  and 
a  man  was  needed  to  look  after  it.  Our 
actions  are  usually  right,  but  the  reasons 
we  give  seldom  are  ;  but  in  this  case  no 
doubt  "a  man  was  needed,"  for  the 
widow  had  much  property,  and  we  can- 
27 


(Seorge  Masbington 


not  but  cougratulate  Martha  Custis  on 
her  choice  of  "  a  man."  She  owned  fifteen 
thousand  acres  of  land,  many  lots  in  the 
city  of  Williamsburg,  two  hundred  ne- 
groes, and  some  money  on  bond  ;  all  the 
property  being  worth  over  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars — a  very  large  amount 
for  those  days. 

Directly  after  the  wedding  the  couple 
moved  to  Mount  Vernon,  taking  a  good 
many  of  the  slaves  with  them.  Shortly 
after,  arrangements  were  under  way  to 
rebuild  the  house  and  the  plans  that 
finally  developed  into  the  present  man- 
sion were  begun. 

Washington's  letters  and  diary  contain 
very  few  references  to  his  wife,  and  none 
of  the  many  visitors  to  Mount  Vernon 
took  pains  to  testify  to  either  her  wit  or 
intellect.  We  know  that  the  housekeep- 
ing at  Mount  Vernon  proved  too  much 
for  her  ability  and  that  a  woman  was 
hired  to  oversee  the  household.  And 
in  this  reference  a  complaint  is  found 
from  the  General  that  "  housekeeper 
28 


z 

o 
o 

a 

as 
O 


(5corc;c  XHHasbimiton 


has  done  gone  and   left  things   in    con- 
fusion."    He  had  his  troubles. 

Martha's  education  was  not  equal  to 
writing  a  presentable  letter,  for  we  find 
that  her  husband  wrote  the  first  draft  of  all 
important  missives  that  it  was  necessary 
for  her  to  send,  and  she  copied  them  even 
to  his  mistakes  in  spelling.  Very  patient 
was  he  about  this,  and  even  when  he 
was  President  and  harried  constantly  we 
find  him  stopping  to  acknowledge  for 
her  "an  invitation  to  take  some  Tea," 
and  at  the  bottom  of  the  sheet  adding  a 
pious  bit  of  finesse,  thus  :  "  The  President 
^requests  me  to  send  his  compliments  and 
only  regrets  that  the  pressure  of  affairs 
compels  him  to  forego  the  Pleasure  of 
seeing  you." 

Immediately  after  Washington's  death, 
his  wife  destroyed  all  the  letters  he  had 
written  her — many  hundred  in  number — 
an  offense  that  the  world  is  not  yet  quite 
willing  to  forget,  even  though  it  has  for- 
given. 


29 


V. 


AIvTHOUGH  we  have  been  told  that 
when  Washington  was  six  years 
old  he  could  not  tell  a  lie,  yet  he 
afterwards  partially  overcame  the  disa- 
bility. On  one  occasion  he  writes  to  a 
friend  that  the  mosquitoes  of  New  Jersey 
"can  bite  through  the  thickest  boot," 
and  though  a  contemporary  clergyman, 
greatly  flurried,  explains  that  he  meant 
"stocking"  we  insist  that  the  statement 
shall  stand  as  the  Father  of  his  Country 
expressed  it,  Washington  also  records 
without  a  blush,  "I  announced  I  would 
leave  at  8  and  then  immediately  gave 
private  Orders  to  go  at  5,  so  to  avoid  the 
Throng."  Another  time  when  he  dis- 
charged an  overseer  for  incompetency 
he  lessened  the  pain  of  parting  by  writing 
for  the  fellow  "  a  Character." 
30 


©eorgc  TRUasbington 


When  he  went  to  Boston  and  was 
named  as  Commander  of  the  Army,  his 
chief  concern  seemed  to  be  how  he  would 
make  peace  with  Martha.  Ho  !  ye 
married  men  !  do  you  understand  the 
situation  ?  He  was  to  be  away  for  a  year, 
two,  or  possibly  three,  and  his  wife  did 
not  have  an  inkling  of  it.  Now  he  must 
break  the  news  to  her. 

As  plainly  shown  by  Cabot  Lodge  and 
other  historians,  there  was  much  rivalry 
for  the  oflBce,  and  it  was  ouly  allotted  to 
the  South  as  a  political  deal  after  much 
bickering.  Washington  had  been  a  pas- 
sive but  very  willing  candidate,  and  after 
a  struggle  his  friends  secured  him  the 
prize— and  now  what  to  do  with  Martha  ! 
Writing  to  her,  among  other  things,  he 
says,  "You  may  believe  me,  my  dear 
Patsy,  when  I  assure  you  in  the  most 
solemn  manner  that  so  far  from  seeking 
the  appointment  I  have  done  all  in  my 
power  to  avoid  it."  The  man  who  will 
not  fabricate  a  bit  in  order  to  keep  peace 
with  the  wife  of  his  bosom  is  not  much 
31 


©eorge  THllasblngton 


of  a  man.  But  "Patsy's"  objections 
were  overcome,  and  beyond  a  few  chid- 
ings  and  sundry  complainings,  she  did 
nothing  to  block  the  great  game  of  war. 

At  Princeton,  Washington  ordered 
camp-fires  to  be  built  along  the  brow  of  a 
hill  for  a  mile,  and  when  the  fires  were 
well  lighted,  he  withdrew  his  army, 
marched  around  to  the  other  side,  and 
surprised  the  enemy  at  daylight.  At 
Brooklyn  he  used  masked  batteries,  and 
presented  a  fierce  row  of  round  black 
spots  painted  on  canvas  that,  from  the 
city,  looked  like  the  mouths  of  cannon 
at  which  men  seek  the  bauble  reputation. 
It  is  said  he  also  sent  a  note  threatening 
to  fire  these  sham  cannon,  on  receiving 
which  the  enemy  hastily  moved  be- 
yond range.  Perceiving  afterwards  that 
they  had  been  imposed  upon,  the  brave 
English  sent  word  "  to  shoot  and  be 
damned."  Evidently  Washington  con- 
sidered that  all  things  are  fair  in  love  and 
war. 

Washington  talked  but  little,  and  his 
32 


(5eorge  tClasbfngtort 


usual  air  was  one  of  melancholy  that 
stopped  just  short  of  sadness.  All  this, 
with  the  firmness  of  his  features  and  the 
dignity  of  his  carriage,  gave  the  impres- 
sion of  sternness  and  severity.  And  these 
things  gave  rise  to  the  popular  concep- 
tion that  he  had  small  sense  of  humor ; 
yet  he  surely  was  fond  of  a  quiet  smile. 

At  one  time  Congress  insisted  that  a 
standing  army  of  five  thousand  men  was 
too  large ;  Washington  replied  that  if 
England  would  agree  never  to  invade  this 
country  with  more  than  three  thousand 
men,  he  would  be  perfectly  willing  that 
our  army  should  be  reduced  to  four 
thousand. 

When  the  King  of  Spain,  knowing  he 
was  a  farmer,  thoughtfully  sent  him  a 
present  of  a  jackass,  Washington  pro- 
posed naming  the  animal  in  honor  of  the 
donor  ;  and  in  writing  to  friends  about 
the  present,  draws  invidious  comparisons 
between  the  gift  and  giver.  Evidently 
the  joke  pleased  him,  for  he  repeats  it 
iu  different  letters  ;  thus  showing  how, 
33 


©corgc  "QClaebinQton 


when  he  sat  down  to  clear  his  desk  of 
correspondence,  he  economized  energy 
by  following  a  form.  So  we  now  find 
letters  that  are  almost  identical,  even  to 
jokes,  sent  to  persons  in  South  Carolina 
and  Massachusetts.  Doubtless  the  good 
man  thought  they  would  never  be  com- 
pared, for  how  could  he  foresee  that  an 
autograph-dealer  in  New  York  would 
eventually  catalogue  them  at  twenty-two 
dollars,  fifty  cents  each,  or  that  a  very 
proper  but  half-affectionate  missive  of  his 
to  a  Faire  Ladye  would  be  sold  by  her 
great  granddaughter  for  fifty  dollars  ? 

In  1793  there  were  on  the  Mount  Ver- 
non plantation  three  hundred  and  seventy . 
head  of  cattle,  and  Washington  appends 
to  the  report  a  sad  regret  that  with  all 
this  number  of  horned  beasts,  he  yet  has 
to  buy  butter.  There  is  also  a  fine,  grim 
humor  shown  iu  the  incident  of  a  flag  of 
truce  coming  in  at  New  York,  bearing  a 
message  from  General  Howe,  addressed 
to  "  Mr.  Washington."  The  General  took 
the  letter  from  the  hand  of  the  red-coat, 
34 


a.tcyr.  \2j^'Vi^lA 


cyO 


ZiC^  ^\4f/iina/c 


1  in  oca  rip 


^deam/?vmY< 


'a^  tir^/7>^ym^^^  f7AO 


AiT.  n 


'a*^n(/rufAm^ 


^  ^  i^^  Z-^^^-^^^^^, 


yET.4-i- 


yh^  3^^  2<f  ^c^^C^^>^/?^^ 


C-^^^l'Z-t^S^^'^ 


e^rL>!Ku^-x. 


roURDA-rS  BCroRE  HIS  DCATH  /^zO'^ 


WASHINGTON'S   SIGNATURES. 


QcoiQc  Masbiiigton 


glanced  at  the  superscription,  and  said, 
"Why,  this  letter  is  not  for  me!  It  is 
directed  to  a  planter  in  Virginia — I  '11 
keep  it  and  give  it  to  him  at  the  end  of 
the  war."  Then,  cramming  the  letter 
into  his  pocket,  he  ordered  the  flag  of 
truce  out  of  the  lines  and  directed  the 
gunners  to  stand  by.  In  an  hour  another 
letter  came  back  addressed  to  "His  Ex- 
cellenc}',  General  Washington." 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  a  soldier 
brought  to  W^ashingtou  a  dog  that  had 
been  found  wearing  a  collar  with  the 
name  of  General  Howe  engraved  on  it. 
Washington  returned  the  dog  by  a  special 
messenger  with  a  note  reading,  "  General 
Washington  sends  his  compliments  to 
General  Howe,  and  begs  to  return  one 
dog  that  evidently  belongs  to  him."  In 
this  instance  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
Washington  acted  in  sober  good  faith,  but 
was  the  victim  of  a  practical  joke  on  the 
part  of  one  of  his  aides. 

Another  remark  that  sounds  like  a  joke, 
but  perhaps  was  not  one,  was  when,  on 
35 


©eorge  Wa»bington 


taking  command  of  the  army  at  Boston, 
the  General  writes  to  his  life-long  friend, 
Dr.  Craik,  asking  what  he  can  do  for  him 
and  addiug  a  sentiment  still  in  the  air — 
"But  these  Massachusetts  people  suffer 
nothing  to  go  by  them  that  they  can  lay 
their  hands  ou."  In  another  letter  he 
pays  his  compliments  to  Connecticut 
thus  :  "  Their  impecunious  meanness  sur- 
passes belief." 

When  Cornwallis  surrendered  at  York- 
town,  Washington  refused  to  humiliate 
him  and  his  officers  by  accepting  their 
swords.  He  treated  Cornwallis  as  his 
guest  and  even  "gave  a  dinner  in  his 
honor."  At  this  dinner  Rochambeau 
being  asked  for  a  toast  gave  "The 
United  States."  Washington  proposed 
"The  King  of  France."  Cornwallis 
merely  gave  "The  King,"  and  Washing- 
ton, putting  the  toast,  expressed  it  as 
Cornwallis  intended,  "The  King  of  Eng- 
land," and  added  a  sentiment  of  his  own 
that  made  even  Cornwallis  laugh — "may 
he  stay  there."  Washington's  treatment 
36 


©eorgc  Masbingtou 

of  Cornwallis  made  him  a  life-long  friend. 
Many  years  after,  when  Cornwallis  was 
Governor-General  of  India,  he  sent  a 
message  to  his  old  antagonist,  wishing 
him  "prosperity  and  enjoyment,"  and 
adding,  "As  for  myself,  I  am  yet  in 
troubled  waters." 


•37 


VI. 


ONCE  in  a  century,  possibly,  a  be- 
ing is  born  who  possesses  a  tran- 
scendent insight,  and  him  we 
call  a  "genius."  Shakespeare,  for  in- 
stance, to  whom  all  knowledge  la}'  open  ; 
Joan  of  Arc  ;  the  artist  Turner  ;  Sweden- 
borg,  the  mystic — these  are  the  men  who 
know  a  royal  road  to  geometry  ;  but  we 
may  safely  leave  them  out  of  account 
when  we  deal  with  the  builders  of  a 
State,  for  among  statesmen  there  are  no 
geniuses. 

Nobody  knows  just  what  a  genius 
is  or  what  he  may  do  next  ;  he  boils 
at  an  unknown  temperature  and  often 
explodes  at  a  touch.  He  is  uncertain  and 
therefore  unsafe.  His  best  results  are 
conjured  forth,  but  no  man  has  yet  con- 
jured forth  a  Nation — it  is  all  slow, 
38 


©eorge  Masbington 


patient,  painstaking  work  along  mathe- 
matical lines.  Washington  was  a  math- 
ematician and  therefore  not  a  genius. 
We  call  him  a  great  man,  but  his  great- 
ness was  of  a  sort  in  which  we  all  can 
share  ;  his  virtues  were  of  a  kind  that,  in 
degree,  we  too  may  possess.  Any  man 
who  succeeds  in  a  legitimate  business 
works  with  the  same  tools  that  Washing- 
ton used.  Washington  was  human.  We 
know  the  man  ;  we  understand  him  ;  we 
comprehend  how  he  succeeded,  for  with 
him  there  were  no  tricks,  no  legerdemain 
— no  secrets.     He  is  very  near  to  us. 

Washington  is  indeed  first  in  the  hearts 
of  his  countrymen.  Washington  has  no 
detractors.  There  may  come  a  time  when 
another  will  take  first  place  in  the  affec- 
tions of  the  people,  but  that  time  is  not 
yet  ripe.  Lincoln  stood  between  men 
who  now  live  and  the  prizes  they  coveted  ; 
thousands  still  tread  the  earth  whom  he 
benefited,  and  neither  class  can  forgive, 
for  they  are  of  clay.  But  all  those  who 
lived  when  Washington  lived  are  gone; 
39 


(3eorgc  TKHasbington 


not  one  survives  ;  even  the  last  body-ser- 
vant, who  confused  memory  with  hear- 
say, has  departed  babbling  to  his  rest. 

We  know  all  of  Washington  we  will 
ever  know  ;  there  are  no  more  documents 
to  present,  no  partisan  witnesses  to  ex- 
amine, no  prejudices  to  remove.  His 
purity  of  purpose  stands  unimpeached  ; 
his  steadfast  earnestness  and  sterling 
honesty  are  our  priceless  examples. 

We  love  the  man. 

We  call  him  Father. 


40 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN 


41 


I  will  speak  ill  of  no  man,  not  even  in  matter 
of  truth ;  but  rather  excuse  the  faults  I  hear 
charged  upon  others,  and  upon  proper  occasion 
speak  all  the  good  I  know  of  ever\'body. 

Franklin' s  Journal. 


42 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKIvIN  was  twelve 
years  old.  He  was  large  and 
strong  aud  fat  aud  good-natured 
and  had  a  full-moon  face  and  red  cheeks 
that  made  him  look  like  a  country  bump- 
kin. He  was  born  in  Boston  within 
twenty  yards  of  the  church  called  "  Old 
South,"  but  the  Franklins  now  lived  at 
the  corner  of  Congress  and  Hanover 
Streets,  where  to  this  day  there  swings  in 
the  breeze  a  gilded  ball,  and  on  it  the 
legend,  "Josiah  Franklin,  Soap  Boiler." 
Benjamin  was  the  fifteenth  child  in  the 
family  ;  and  several  having  grown  to 
maturity  and  flown,  there  were  thirteen 
at  the  table  when  little  Ben  first  sat  iu  the 
43 


JBenjamtn  ^Franklin 


high  chair.  But  the  Franklins  were  not 
superstitious,  and  if  little  Ben  ever  prayed 
that  another  would  be  born,  just  for  luck, 
we  know  nothing  of  it.  His  mother 
loved  him  very  much  and  indulged  him 
in  many  ways  for  he  was  always  her 
baby  boy,  but  the  father  thought  that  be- 
cause he  was  good-natured  he  was  also 
lazy  and  should  be  disciplined. 

Once  upon  a  time  the  father  was  pack- 
ing a  barrel  of  beef  in  the  cellar,  and 
Ben  was  helping  him,  and  as  the  father 
always  said  grace  at  table,  the  boy  sug- 
gested he  ask  a  blessing,  once  for  all,  on 
the  barrel  of  beef  and  thus  economize 
breath.  But  economics  along  that  line 
did  not  appeal  to  Josiah  Franklin,  for  this 
was  early  in  1718,  and  Josiah  was  a  Pres- 
byterian and  lived  in  Boston. 

The  boy  was  not  religious  for  he  never 
"  went  forward,"  and  only  went  to  church 
because  he  had  to,  and  read  Plutarch's 
Lives  with  much  more  relish  than  he  did 
Saint's  Rest.  But  he  had  great  curiosity 
and  asked  questions  until  his  mother 
44 


JBcnjamiii  ffrankltn 


would  say,  "  Goodness  gracious,  go  and 
play  !  " 

And  as  the  boy  was  n't  very  religious 
or  very  fond  of  work,  his  father  and 
mother  decided  that  there  were  only  two 
careers  open  for  him  :  the  mother  pro- 
posed that  he  be  made  a  preacher,  but  his 
father  said,  send  him  to  sea.  To  go  to 
sea  under  a  good  strict  captain  would  dis- 
cipline him,  and  to  send  him  off  and 
put  him  under  the  care  of  Rev.  Doctor 
Thirdly  would  answer  the  same  purpose, 
— which  course  should  be  pursued?  But 
Pallas  Athene,  who  was  to  watch  over 
this  lad's  destinies  all  through  life,  pre- 
served him  from  either. 

His  parents'  aspirations  extended  even 
to  his  becoming  captain  of  a  schooner  or 
pastor  of  the  First  Church  at  Roxbury. 
And  no  doubt  he  could  have  sailed  the 
schooner  around  the  globe  in  safety,  or 
filled  the  pulpit  with  a  degree  of  power 
that  would  have  caused  consternation  to 
reign  in  the  heart  of  every  other  preacher 
in  town  ;  but  fate  saved  him  that  he 
45 


asenjamin  jfranhltn 


might  take  the  Ship  of  State,  when  she 
threatened  to  strand  on  the  rocks  of 
adversity,  and  pilot  her  into  peaceful 
waters,  and  to  preach  such  sermons  to 
America  that  their  eloquence  still  moves 
us  to  better  things. 

Parents  think  that  what  they  say  about 
their  children  goes,  and  once  in  an  aw- 
fully long  time  it  does,  but  the  men  who 
become  great  and  learned  usually  do  so 
in  spite  of  their  parents — which  remark 
was  Srst  made  by  Martin  Luther  but 
need  not  be  discredited  on  that  account. 

Ben's  oldest  brother  was  James.  Now 
James  was  nearly  forty  ;  he  was  tall  and 
slender,  stooped  a  little,  and  had  sandy 
whiskers,  and  a  nervous  cough,  and  posi- 
tive ideas  on  many  subjects — one  of  which 
was  that  he  was  a  printer.  His  appren- 
tice, or  "devil,"  had  left  him,  because 
the  devil  did  not  like  to  be  cuffed  when- 
ever the  compositor  shuffled  his  fonts. 
James  needed  another  apprentice,  and 
proposed  to  take  his  younger  brother  and 
make  a  man  of  him  if  the  old  folks  were 
46 


:i8enjamiii  jfranhUn 


willing.  The  old  folks  were  willing  and 
Ben  was  duly  bound  by  law  to  his  brother, 
agreeing  to  serve  him  faithfully  as  Jacob 
served  Laban  for  seven  years  and  two 
years  more. 

Science  has  explained  many  things,  but 
it  has  not  yet  told  why  it  sometimes 
happens  that  when  seventeen  eggs  are 
hatched,  the  brood  will  consist  of  sixteen 
barnyard  fowls  and  one  eagle. 

James  Franklin  was  a  man  of  small 
capacity,  whimsical,  jealous,  and  arbi- 
trary. But  if  he  cuffed  his  apprentice 
Benjamin,  when  the  compositor  blun- 
dered, and  when  he  did  n't,  it  was  his  legal 
right ;  and  the  master  who  did  not  occa- 
sionally kick  his  apprentices  was  con- 
sidered derelict  to  duty.  The  boy  ran 
errands,  cleaned  the  presses,  swept  the 
shop,  tied  up  bundles,  did  the  tasks  that 
no  one  else  would  do  ;  and  incidentally 
"  learned  the  case."  Then  he  set  type, 
and  after  a  while  ran  a  press.  And  in 
those  days  a  printer  ranked  above  a 
common  mechanic.  A  man  who  was  a 
47 


:fl3eujamin  jfranhUn 


printer  was  a  literary  man,  as  were  the 
master  printers  of  London  and  Venice.  A 
printer  was  a  man  of  taste.  All  editors 
were  printers,  and  usually  composed  the 
matter  as  they  set  it  up  in  type.  Thus 
we  now  have  a  room  called  a  "  compos- 
ing room,"  a  "composing  stick,"  etc. 
People  once  addressed  "Mr.  Printer," 
not  Mr.  Editor,  and  when  they  met  "  Mr. 
Printer "  on  the  street  removed  their 
hats — but  not  in  Philadelphia. 

Young  Franklin  felt  a  proper  degree  of 
pride  in  his  work,  if  not  vanity.  In 
fact,  he  himself  has  said  that  vanity  is  a 
good  thing,  and  whenever  he  saw  it  come 
flaunting  down  the  street,  always  made 
way,  knowing  that  there  was  virtue  some- 
where back  of  it — out  of  sight  perhaps 
but  still  there.  James,  being  a  brother, 
had  no  confidence  in  Ben's  intellect,  so 
when  Ben  wrote  short  articles  on  this  and 
that,  he  tucked  them  under  the  door  so 
that  James  would  find  them  in  the  morn- 
ing. James  showed  these  articles  to  his 
friends,  and  they  all  voted  them  very  fine 
48 


JScnjamin  jfranftUn 

and  concluded  they  must  have  been 
written  by  Doctor  So-aud-So,  Ph.D.,  who, 
like  Lord  Bacon,  was  a  very  modest  man 
and  did  not  care  to  see  his  name  in  print. 

Yet  by  and  by  it  came  out  who  it  was 
that  wrote  the  anonymous  "hot  stuflf," 
and  then  James  did  not  think  it  was  quite 
so  good  as  he  at  first  thought,  and,  more- 
over, declared  he  knew  whose  it  was  all 
the  time.  Ben  was  eighteen  and  had 
read  Montaigne,  and  Collins,  and  Shaftes- 
bury, and  Hume.  "When  he  wrote  he 
expressed  thoughts  that  then  were  con- 
sidered very  dreadful,  but  that  can  now 
be  heard  proclaimed  even  in  good  ortho- 
dox churches.  But  Ben  had  wit  and  to 
spare,  and  he  levelled  it  at  government 
officials  and  preachers,  and  these  gentle- 
men did  not  relish  the  jokes, — people  sel- 
dom relish  jokes  at  their  own  expense, — 
and  they  sought  to  suppress  the  newspaper 
that  the  Franklin  brothers  published. 

The  blame  for  all  the  trouble  James 
heaped  upon  Benjamin,  and  all  the  credit 
for  success  he  took  to  himself.  James  de- 
49 


JSenjamin  jfranklin 


clared  that  Ben  had  the  big  head — and  he 
probably  was  right  ;  but  he  forgot  that 
the  big  head,  Hke  mumps  and  measles, 
and  everything  in  life,  is  self-limiting  and 
good  in  its  way.  So  to  teach  Ben  his 
proper  place,  James  reminded  him  that 
he  was  only  an  apprentice,  with  three 
years  yet  to  serve,  and  that  he  should  be 
seen  seldom  and  not  heard  all  the  time, 
and  that  if  he  ran  away  he  would  send  a 
constable  after  him  and  fetch  him  back. 

Ben  evidently  had  a  mind  open  to 
suggestive  influences,  for  the  remark 
about  running  away  prompted  him  to  do 
so.  He  sold  some  of  his  books  and  got 
himself  secreted  on  board  a  ship  about 
to  sail  for  New  York . 

Arriving  at  New  York,  in  three  days  he 
found  the  broad-beamed  Dutch  had  small 
use  for  printers  and  no  special  admira- 
tion for  the  art  preservative  ;  and  he 
started  for  Philadelphia. 

Every  one  knows  how  he  landed  in  a 
small  boat  at  the  foot  of  Market  Street 
with  only  a  few  coppers  in  his  pocket, 
50 


Benjamin  jfranhlln 


and  made  his  way  to  a  bake-shop  and 
asked  for  a  three-penny  loaf  of  bread,  and 
being  told  they  had  no  three-penny  loaves, 
then  asked  for  three-penny's  worth  of 
any  kind  of  bread,  and  was  given  three 
loaves.  Where  is  the  man,  who  in  a 
strange  land  has  not  suffered  rather  than 
reveal  his  ignorance  before  a  shopkeeper? 
When  I  was  first  in  England  and  could 
not  compute  readily  in  shillings  and 
pence  I  would  toss  out  a  gold  piece  when 
I  made  a  purchase  and  assume  a  'igh 
and  'aughty  mien.  And  that  Philadelphia 
baker  probably  died  in  blissful  ignorance 
of  the  fact  that  the  youth  who  was  to  be 
America's  pride  bought  from  him  three 
loaves  of  bread  when  he  wanted  only  one. 
The  runaway  Ben  had  a  downy  beard  all 
over  his  face,  and  as  he  took  his  three 
loaves  and  walked  up  Market  Street,  with 
a  loaf  under  each  arm,  munching  on  the 
third,  was  smiled  upon  in  merry  mirth 
by  the  buxom  Deborah  Read,  as  she  stood 
in  the  doorway  of  her  father's  house. 
Yet  Franklin  got  even  with  her,  for  some 
51 


:t6enjamin  ffranklin 


months  after,  he  went  back  that  way  and 
courted  her,  and  she  grew  to  love  hira, 
and  they  ' '  exchanged  promises, ' '  he  says. 
After  some  months  of  work  and  love- 
making,  Franklin  sailed  away  to  England 
on  a  wild-goose  chase.  He  promised 
to  return  soon  and  make  Deborah  his 
wife.  But  he  wrote  only  one  solitary 
letter  to  the  broken-hearted  girl  and  did 
not  come  back  for  nearly  two  years. 


52 


0 


II. 


TIME  is  the  great  avenger  as  well  as 
educator ;  only  the  education  is 
usually  deferred  until  it  no  longer 
avails  in  this  incarnation,  and  is  valuable 
only  for  advice  —  and  nobody  wants  ad- 
vice. Death-bed  repentances  may  be 
legal-tender  for  salvation  in  another 
world,  but  for  this  they  are  below  par, 
and  regeneration  that  is  postponed  until 
the  man  has  no  further  capacity  to  sin  is 
little  better.  For  sin  is  only  perverted 
power,  and  the  man  without  capacity  to 
sin  neither  has  ability  to  do  good — is  n't 
that  so  ?  His  soul  is  a  Dead  Sea  that  sup- 
ports neither  amoeba  nor  fish,  neither 
noxious  bacilli,  nor  useful  life.  Happy  is 
the  man  who  conserves  his  God-given 
power  until  wisdom  and  not  passion  shall 
direct  it.  So  the  younger  in  life  a  man 
53 


JBenjamin  ffranklin 


makes  the  resolve  to  tiiru  and  live,  the 
better  for  that  man  and  the  better  for  the 
world. 

Once  upon  a  time  Carlyle  took  Mil- 
burn,  the  blind  preacher,  out  on  to  Chel- 
sea embankment  and  showed  the  sight- 
less man  where  Franklin  plunged  into 
the  Thames  and  swam  to  Blackfriars 
Bridge.  "  He  might  have  stayed  here" 
said  Thomas  Carlyle,  "and  become  a 
swimming  teacher,  but  God  had  other 
work  for  him  ! "  Franklin  had  many 
opportunities  to  stop  and  become  a  victim 
of  arrested  development,  but  he  never 
embraced  tbe  occasion.  He  could  have 
stayed  in  Boston  and  been  a  hum-drum 
preacher,  or  a  thrifty  sea-captain,  or  an  or- 
dinary printer  ;  or  he  could  have  remained 
in  London,  and  been  like  his  friend 
Ralph,  a  clever  writer  of  doggerel  and  a 
supporter  of  the  political  party  that 
would  pay  most. 

Benjamin   Franklin   was  twenty  years 
old    when    he    returned   from  England. 
The  ship  was  beaten  back  by  headwinds 
54 


:JScnjamin  jfranhlin 


and  blown  out  of  her  course  by  bliz- 
zards, and  becalmed  at  times,  so  it  took 
eighty-two  days  to  make  the  voyage. 
A  worthy  old  clergyman  tells  me  this 
was  so  ordained  and  ordered  that  Ben- 
jamin might  have  time  to  meditate  on 
the  follies  of  youth  and  shape  his  course 
for  the  future,  and  I  do  not  argue  the 
case  for  I  am  quite  willing  to  admit 
that  my  friend  the  clergyman  has  the 
facts. 

Yes,  we  must  be  "converted,"  "born 
again,"  "regenerated,"  or  whatever  you 
may  be  pleased  to  call  it.  Sometimes — 
very  often — it  is  love  that  reforms  a  man  ; 
sometimes  sickness,  sometimes  sore  be- 
reavement. Dr.  Talmage  says  that  with 
St.  Paul  it  was  a  sunstroke,  and  this 
may  be  so,  for  surely  Saul  of  Tarsus 
on  his  way  to  Damascus  to  persecute 
Christians  was  not  in  love.  Love  for- 
gives to  seventy  times  seven  and  per- 
secutes nobody. 

We  do  not  know  just  what  it  was  that 
turned  Franklin  ;  he  had  tried  folly— we 
55 


^Benjamin  jpranf^lln 


know  that— and  he   just  seems  to  have 
anticipated  Browning  and  concluded  : 

It 's  wiser  being  good  than  bad  ; 
It  's  safer  being  meek  than  fierce  ; 
It  's  better  being  sane  than  mad. 

On  this  vo3-age  the  young  printer  was 
thrust  down  into  the  depths  and  made  to 
wrestle  with  the  powers  of  darkness  ;  and 
in  the  remorse  of  soul  that  came  over 
him,  he  made  a  liturgy  to  be  repeated 
night  and  morning,  and  at  mid-day. 
There  were  many  items  in  this  ritual— all 
of  which  were  corrected  and  amended 
from  titne  to  time  in  after  years.  Here 
are  a  few  paragraphs  that  represent  the 
longings  and  trend  of  the  lad's  heart.  His 
prayer  was  :  "  That  I  may  hax^e  tenderness 
for  the  meek  ;  that  I  may  be  kind  to  my 
neighbors,  good-natured  to  my  compan- 
ions and  hospitable  to  strangers.  Help 
me,  O  God  ! 

"  That  I  may  be  averse  to  craft  and  over- 
reaching, abhor  extortion,  and  every  kind 
of  weakness  and  wickedness.  Help  me, 
OGod! 

56 


JSenjamtn  ffraiihlin 


"That  I  may  have  constant  regard  to 
honor  aud  probity  ;  that  I  may  possess 
an  innocent  and  good  conscience,  and  at 
length  become  truly  virtuous  aud  mag- 
nanimous.    Help  me,  O  God  ! 

"  That  I  may  refrain  from  calumny  and 
detraction  ;  that  I  may  abhor  deceit,  and 
avoid  lying,  envy,  and  fraud,  flattery,  ha- 
tred, malice,  aud  ingratitude.  Help  me, 
O  God  !  " 

Then  in  addition  he  formed  rules  of 
conduct  aud  wrote  them  out  aud  com- 
mitted them  to  memory.  The  maxims 
he  adopted  are  old  as  thought,  yet  can 
never  become  antiquated,  for  in  morals 
there  is  nothing  either  new  or  old,  neither 
can  there  be. 

On  that  return  voyage  from  England, 
he  inwardly  vowed  that  his  first  act  on 
getting  ashore  would  be  to  find  Deborah 
Read  and  make  peace  with  her  and  his 
conscience.  And  true  to  his  vow  he 
found  her,  but  she  was  the  wife  of  another. 
Her  mother  believed  that  Franklin  had 
run  away  simply  to  get  rid  of  her,  and 
57 


Senjamin  jfrajiftlin 


the  poor  girl,  dazed  and  forlorn,  be 
reft  of  will,  had  been  induced  to  marry 
a  man  b}'  the  name  of  Rogers  who 
was  a  potter  and  also  a  potterer,  but 
who  Franklin  says  was  "a  very  good 
potter." 

After  some  months,  Deborah  left  the 
potter,  because  she  did  not  like  to  be 
reproved  with  a  strap,  and  went  home  to 
her  mother. 

Franklin  was  now  well  in  the  way  of 
prosperitj',  aged  twenty-four,  with  a  little 
printing  business  ;  plans  plus,  and  ambi- 
tions to  spare.  He  had  bad  his  little  fling 
in  life,  and  had  done  various  things  of 
which  he  was  ashamed  ;  and  the  foolish 
things  that  Deborah  had  done  were  no 
worse  than  those  of  which  he  had  been 
guiltv.  So  he  called  on  her,  and  they 
talked  it  over  and  made  honest  confes- 
sions that  are  good  for  the  soul.  The 
potter  disappeared — no  one  knew  where 
—some  said  he  was  dead,  but  Benjamin 
and  Deborah  did  not  wear  mourning. 
They  took  rumor's  word  for  it,  and 
58 


JBcnjamin  jfranklin 


thanked  God,  and  went  to  a  church  and 
were  married. 

Deborah  brought  to  the  firm  a  very 
small  dowrj' ;  and  Benjamin  contributed  a 
bright  baby  boy,  aged  two  years,  captured 
no  one  knows  just  where.  This  boy  was 
"William  Franklin,  who  grew  up  into  a 
very  excellent  man,  and  the  worst  that 
can  be  said  of  him  is,  that  he  became 
Governor  of  New  Jersey.  He  loved  and 
respected  his  father,  and  called  Deborah 
mother,  and  loved  her  very  much.  And 
she  was  worthy  of  all  love  and  ever  treated 
him  with  tenderness  and  gentlest  con- 
siderate care.  Possibly  a  blot  on  the 
'scutcheon  may  in  the  working  of  God's 
providence,  not  always  be  a  dire  mis- 
fortune, for  it  sometimes  has  the  effect  of 
binding  broken  hearts  as  nothing  else 
can,  as  a  cicatrice  toughens  the  fibre. 

Deborah  had  not  much  education,  but 
she  had  good,  sturdy  common  sense, 
which  is  better  if  you  are  forced  to  make 
choice.  She  set  herself  to  help  her  hus- 
band in  every  way  possible  and  so  far  as  I 
59 


JScnjnmln  J^ranl;ltn 

know,  never  sighed  for  one  of  those  things 
you  call  "  a  career."  She  even  worked  in 
the  printing-office,  folding,  stitching,  and 
doing  up  bundles. 

Long  3'ears  afterward,  when  Franklin 
was  Ambassador  of  the  American  Colo- 
nies in  France,  he  told  with  pride  that 
the  clothes  he  wore  were  spun,  woven, 
cut  out,  and  made  into  garments  all  by  his 
wife's  own  bauds.  Franklin's  love  for 
Deborah  was  very  steadfast.  Together 
they  became  rich  and  respected,  won 
world-wide  fame,  and  honors  came  that 
way  such  as  no  American  before  or  since 
has  ever  received. 

And  when  I  say  "  God  bless  all  good 
women  who  help  men  to  do  their  work," 
I  simply  repeat  the  words  once  used  by 
Benjamin  Franklin  when  lie  had  Deborah 
in  mind. 


60 


Ill 

WHEN  Frauklin  was  forty-two 
be  had  accumulated  a  fortune 
of  seventy-five  thousand  dol- 
lars. It  gave  him  an  income  of  about 
four  thousand  dollars  a  year,  which  he 
said  was  all  be  wanted  ;  so  he  sold  out  his 
business  intending  to  devote  his  entire 
energies  to  the  study  of  science  and  lan- 
guages. He  bad  lived  iust  one  half  his 
daj's  ;  and  bad  he  then  passed  out,  his 
life  could  have  been  summed  up  as  one 
of  the  most  useful  that  ever  has  been 
lived.  He  had  founded  and  been  the  life 
of  the  Junto  Club  ;  the  most  sensible,  and 
beneficent  club  of  which  I  ever  heard. 

The  series  of  questions  asked  at  every 
meeting  of  the  Junto,  so  mirror  the  life 
and  habit  of  thought  of  Franklin,  that  we 
had  better  glance  at  a  few  of  them  : 
6i 


JSenjamtn  jFranfiltn 


1.  Have  you  read  over  these  queries 
this  morning,  in  order  to  consider  what 
you  might  have  to  offer  the  Junto,  touch- 
ing any  one  of  them  ? 

2.  Have  you  met  with  anything  in  the 
author  you  last  read,  remarkable,  or  suit- 
able to  be  communicated  to  the  Junto  ; 
particularly  in  history,  morality,  poetry, 
physics,  travels,  mechanical  arts,  or  other 
parts  of  knowledge  ? 

3.  Do  you  know  of  a  fellow-citizen,  who 
has  lately  done  a  worthy  action,  deserv- 
ing praise  and  imitation  ;  or  who  has 
lately  committed  an  error,  proper  for  us 
to  be  warned  against  and  avoid  ? 

4.  What  unhappy  effects  of  intemper- 
ance have  you  latel}'  observed  or  heard  ; 
of  imprudence,  of  passion,  orof  any  other 
vice  or  folly  ? 

5.  What  happy  effects  of  temperance, 
of  prudence,  of  moderation,  or  of  any 
other  virtue  ? 

6.  Do  you  think  of  anything  at  present 
in  which  the  members  of  the  Junto  may 
be    serviceable    to    mankind,    to    their 

62 


:ffieninniiii  jPrankUn 


country,    to   their   friends,    or  to   them- 
selves? 

7.  Hath  any  deserving  stranger  arrived 
iu  town  since  last  meeting  that  you  have 
heard  of?  And  what  have  you  heard  or 
observed  of  his  character  or  merits  ?  And 
whether,  think  you,  it  lies  in  the  power 
of  the  Junto  to  oblige  him,  or  encourage 
him  as  he  deserves  ? 

8.  Do  you  know  of  any  deserving 
young  beginner  latelj'  set  up,  whom  it 
lies  in  the  power  of  the  Junto  in  any  way 
to  encourage  ? 

9.  Have  you  lately  observed  any  defect 
in  the  laws  of  your  country,  of  which  it 
would  be  proper  to  move  the  legislature 
for  an  amendment  ?  Or  do  you  know  of 
any  beneficial  law  that  is  wanting  ? 

10.  Have  you  lately  observed  any  en- 
croachment on  the  iust  liberties  of  the 
people  ? 

11.  In  what  manner  can  the  Junto,  or 
any  of  its  members,  assist  you  in  any  of 
your  honorable  designs  ? 

12.  Have   you   any   weighty   aflPair   on 

63 


:Benjamin  jfranhliu 


hand  in  which  3-ou  think  the  advice  of 
the  Junto  may  be  of  service  ? 

13.  What  benefits  have  you  lately  re- 
ceived from  any  man  not  present  ? 

14.  Is  there  any  difficulty  in  matters  of 
opinion,  of  justice  and  injustice,  which 
you  would  gladly  have  discussed  at  this 
time  ? 

The  Junto  led  to  the  establishment,  by 
Franklin,  of  the  Philadelphia  Public  Li- 
brary, that  became  the  parent  of  all 
public  libraries  in  America.  He  also  or- 
ganized and  equipped  a  fire  company  ; 
paved  and  lighted  the  streets  of  Philadel- 
phia ;  established  a  high  school  and  an 
academy  for  the  study  of  English 
branches  ;  founded  the  Philadelphia  Pub- 
lic Hospital  ;  invented  the  sprocket-joint 
printing-press  ;  the  Franklin  stove,  and 
various  other  useful  mechanical  devices. 

After  his  retirement  from  business, 
Franklin  enjoyed  seven  years  of  what  he 
called  leisure,  but  they  were  years  of 
study  and  application  ;  years  of  happiness 
and  sweet  content,  but  years  of  aspiration 
64 


FRANKLIN'S   ELECTRICAL   MACHINE. 


JSenjatnln  ffrankliii 


and  au  earnest  looking  into  the  future. 
His  experiments  with  kite  and  key  had 
made  his  name  known  in  all  the  scientific 
circles  of  Europe,  and  his  suggestive  writ- 
ings on  the  subject  of  electricity  had 
caused  Goethe  to  lay  down  his  pen  and 
go  to  rubbing  amber  for  the  edification 
of  all  Weimar.  Franklin  was  in  corre- 
spondence with  the  greatest  minds  of 
Europe,  and  what  his  Poor  Richard  Al- 
manac had  done  for  the  plain  people  of 
America,  his  pamphlets  were  now  doing 
for  the  philosophers  of  the  Old  World. 

In  1754,  he  wrote  a  treatise  showing  the 
Colonies  that  they  must  be  united,  and 
this  was  the  first  public  word  that  was  to 
grow  and  crystallize  and  become  the 
United  States  of  America.  Before  that 
the  Colonies  were  simply  single,  inde- 
pendent, jealous,  and  bickering  over- 
grown clans.  Franklin  showed  for  the 
first  time  that  they  must  unite  in  mutual 
aims. 

In  1757,  matters  were  getting  a  little 
strained  between  the  province  of  Penn- 
65 


aSenjamin  jfranftlin 


sylvania  and  England.  "  The  law-mak- 
ers of  England  do  not  understand  us — 
some  one  should  go  there  as  an  author- 
ized agent  to  plead  our  cause,"  and 
Franklin  was  at  once  chosen  as  the  man 
of  strongest  personality  and  soundest 
sense.  So  Franklin  went  to  England 
and  remained  there  for  five  years  as  agent 
for  the  Colonies. 

He  then  returned  home,  but  after  two 
years  the  Stamp  Act  had  stirred  up  the 
public  temper  to  a  degree  that  made  revo- 
lution imminent,  and  Franklin  again 
went  to  England  to  plead  for  justice. 
The  record  of  the  ten  years  he  now 
spent  in  London  is  told  by  Bancroft  in 
a  hundred  pages.  Bancroft  is  very  good, 
and  I  have  no  desire  to  rival  him,  so, 
suffice  it  to  say  that  Franklin  did  all  that 
any  man  could  have  done  to  avert  the 
coming  War  of  Revolution.  Burke  has 
said  that,  when  he  appeared  before  Par- 
liament to  be  examined  as  to  the  condi- 
tion of  things  in  America,  it  was  like  a  lot 
of  schoolboys  interrogating  the  master. 
66 


36enjamln  jfranftKn 


With  the  voice  and  tongue  of  a  prophet, 
Franklin  foretold  the  English  people 
what  the  outcome  of  their  treatment  of 
America  would  be.  Pitt  and  a  few  others 
knew  the  greatness  of  Franklin,  and  saw 
that  he  was  right,  but  the  rest  smiled  in 
derision. 

He  sailed  for  home  in  1775,  and  urged 
the  Continental  Congress  to  issue  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  of  which  he 
became  a  signer.  Then  the  war  came, 
and  had  not  Franklin  gone  to  Paris  and 
made  an  ally  of  France,  and  borrowed 
money,  the  Continental  Army  could  not 
have  been  maintained  in  the  field.  He 
remained  in  France  for  nine  years,  and 
was  the  pride  and  pet  of  the  people.  His 
sound  sense,  his  good  humor,  his  distin- 
guished personality,  gave  him  the  free- 
dom of  society  everywhere.  He  had  the 
ability  to  adapt  himself  to  conditions,  and 
was  everywhere  at  home. 

Once  he  attended  a  memorable  ban- 
quet in  Paris  shortly  after  the  close  of 
the  Revolutionary  War.  Among  the 
67 


3Benjamin  jfcanl^lin 


speakers  was  the  English  Ambassador, 
who  responded  to  the  toast,  "  Great 
Britain."  The  Ambassador  dwelt  at 
length  on  England's  greatness  and  lik- 
ened her  to  the  sun  that  sheds  its  benefi- 
cent rays  on  all.  The  next  toast  was 
"America,"  and  Franklin  was  called 
upon  to  respond.  He  began  very  mod- 
estly by  saying:  "The  Republic  is  too 
young  to  be  spoken  of  in  terms  of 
praise  ;  her  career  is  yet  to  come,  and 
so,  instead  of  America,  I  will  name  you  a 
man,  George  Washington — the  Joshua 
who  successfully  commanded  the  sun  to 
stand  still."  The  Frenchmen  at  the 
board  forgot  the  courtesy  due  their  Eng- 
lish guest,  and  laughed  needlessly  lo^id. 

Franklin  was  regarded  in  Paris  as  the 
man  who  had  both  planned  the  War  of 
the  Revolution,  and  fought  it.  They 
said,  "he  despoiled  the  thunder-bolt  of 
its  danger,  and  snatched  sovereignty  out 
of  the  hand  of  King  George  of  Eng- 
land." No  doubt  but  that  his  ovation 
was  largely  owing  to  the  fact  that  he  was 
68 


BENrAMIN    FRANKLIN. 


:ffienjamln  jfranhlin 


supposed  to  have  plucked  whole  hand- 
fuls   of  feathers   from   England's   glory, 
and  surely  they  were  pretty  nearly  right. 
In    point    of   all-round    development, 
Franklin   must    stand    as  the    foremost 
American.     The  one  intent  of  his  mind 
was  to  purify  his  own  spirit,  to  develop 
his  intellect  on  every  side,  and  make  his 
body  the  servant  of  his  soul.     His  pas- 
sion was  to  acquire  knowledge,  and  the 
desire  of  his  heart  was  to  communicate  it. 
We   know  of  no  man  who  ever  lived 
a  fuller  life,  a  happier  life,  a  life  more 
useful    to    other    men,    than    Benjamin 
Franklin.     For  forty-two  years  he  gave 
the   constant   efforts   of  his   life   to    his 
country,   and   during  all   that    time   no 
taint  of  a  selfish  action  can  be  laid  to  his 
charge.     Almost  his  last  public  act  was 
to  petition   Congress  to  pass  an  act  for 
the  abolition    of    slavery.     He   died  in 
1790,  and  as  you  walk   up  Arch  Street, 
Philadelphia,    only   a  few   squares   from 
the  spot  where  stood  his  printing-shop, 
you  can  see  the  place  where  he  sleeps. 
69 


JSenjamin  jfranhlin 


The  following  epitaph,  written  by  him- 
self, however,  does  not  appear  on  the 
simple  monument  that  marks  his  grave  : 

The  Body 

OF 

Benjamin  Franklin,  Printer, 

(Like  the  cover  of  an  old  book, 

Its  contents  torn  out. 

And  stripped  of  its  lettering  and  gilding,) 

Lies  here  food  for  worms. 

Yet  the  work  itself  shall  not  be  lost, 

For  it  will  (as  he  believes)  appear  once 

MORE 

In  a  new 

And  MORE   BEAUTIFUL   EDITION 

Corrected  and  Amended 

By 

The  Author. 


70 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON 


The  objects  to  be  attained  are  : 

To  justify  and  preserve  the  confidence  of  the 
most  enlightened  friends  of  good  government ; 
to  promote  the  increasing  respectability  of  the 
American  name  ;  to  answer  the  calls  of  justice  ; 
to  restore  landed  property  to  its  due  value ;  to 
furnish  new  sources  both  to  agriculture  and  com- 
merce ;  to  cement  more  closely  the  union  of  the 
States ;  to  add  to  their  security  against  foreign 
attack  ;  to  establish  public  order  on  the  basis  of 
an  upright  and  liberal  policy  ;— these  are  the 
great  and  invaluable  ends  to  be  secured  by  a 
proper  and  adequate  provision,  at  the  present 
period,  for  the  support  of  public  credit. 

Report  to  Congress. 


72 


HOME   Of   ALEXANDER    HAMILTON,   Washington  Heights,  New  York.. 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 


WB  do  not  know  the  name  of  the 
mother  of  Alexander  Hamil- 
ton :  we  do  not  know  the 
given  name  of  his  father.  But  fro:n  let- 
ters, a  diary,  and  pieced-out  reports, 
allowing  fancy  to  bridge  from  fact  to  fact, 
we  get  a  patchwork  history  of  the  events 
preceding  the  birth  of  this  wonderful 
man. 

Every  strong  man  has  had  a  splendid 
mother.  Hamilton's  mother  was  a  wo- 
man of  wit,  beauty,  and  education. 
While  very  young,  through  the  machina- 
tions of  her  elders,  she  had  been  married 
to  a  man  nmch  older  than  herself, — rich, 
73 


XllejanDer  IF^amilton 


wilful,  and  dissipated.  The  man's  name 
was  Lavine,  but  his  first  name  we  do  not 
know,  so  hidden  were  the  times  in  a 
maze  of  obscurity.  The  young  wife  very 
soon  discovered  the  depravity  of  this  man 
whom  she  had  vowed  to  love  and  obey  ; 
divorce  was  impossible  ;  and  rather  than 
endure  a  life-long  existence  of  legalized 
shame,  she  packed  up  her  scanty  effects 
and  sought  to  hide  herself  from  societj' 
and  kinsmen  by  going  to  the  West  Indies. 
There  she  hoped  to  find  employment 
as  a  governess  in  the  family  of  one  of  the 
rich  planters  ;  or  if  this  plan  were  not 
successful  she  would  start  a  school  on 
her  own  account  and  thus  benefit  her 
kind  and  make  for  herself  an  honorable 
living.  Arriving  at  the  island  of  Nevis, 
she  found  that  the  natives  did  not  es- 
pecially desire  education,  certainly  not 
enough  to  pay  for  it,  and  there  was  no 
family  requiring  a  governess.  But  a  cer- 
tain Scotch  planter  by  the  name  of  Ham- 
ilton, who  was  consulted,  thought  in 
time  that  a  school  could  be  built  up,  and 
74 


BIcjanDer  Ibamilton 


he  offered  to  meet  the  expense  of  it  until 
such  a  time  as  it  could  be  put  on  a  pay- 
ing basis.  Unmarried  women  who  ac- 
cept friendly  loans  from  men  stand  in 
dangerous  places.  V/ith  all  good  women, 
heart-whole  gratitude  and  a  friendship 
that  seems  unselfish  easily  ripen  into 
love.  They  did  so  here.  Perhaps,  in 
a  warm,  ardent  temperament,  sore  grief 
and  biting  disappointment  and  crouching 
want  obscure  the  judgment  and  give  a 
show  of  reason  to  actions  that  a  colder 
intellect  would  disapprove. 

On  the  frontiers  of  civilization  man  is 
greater  than  law — all  ceremonies  are 
looked  upon  lightly.  In  a  few  mouths 
Mrs.  Lavine  was  called  b)'the  little  world 
of  Nevis,  Mrs.  Hamilton,  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hamilton  regarded  themselves  as 
man  and  wife. 

The  planter  Hamilton  was  a  hard- 
headed,  busy  individual,  who  was  quite 
unable  to  sympathize  with  his  wife's  finer 
aspirations.  Her  first  husband  had  been 
clever  and  dissipated ;  this  one  was  wor- 
75 


Blejan&er  Ibaniilton 


thy  and  dull.  And  thus  deprived  of  con- 
genial friendships,  without  books  or  art 
and  that  social  home  life  that  goes  to  make 
up  a  woman's  world,  and  longing  for  the 
safety  of  close  sympathy  and  tender  love, 
with  no  one  on  whom  her  intellect  could 
strike  a  spark,  she  keenly  felt  the  bitter- 
ness of  exile. 

In  a  city  where  society  ebbs  and  flows, 
an  intellectual  woman  married  to  a  com- 
merce-grubbing man  is  not  especially  to 
be  pitied.  She  can  find  intellectual  affin- 
ities that  will  ease  the  irksomeness  of 
her  situation.  But  to  be  cast  on  a  desert 
isle  with  a  being,  no  matter  how  good, 
who  is  incapable  of  feeling  with  you  the 
eternal  mystery  of  the  encircling  tides ; 
who  can  only  stare  when  j-ou  speak  of  the 
moaning  lullaby  of  the  restless  sea  ;  who 
knows  not  the  glory  of  the  sunrise  and  feels 
no  thrill  when  the  breakers  dash  them- 
selves into  foam,  or  the  moonlight  dances 
on  the  phosphorescent  waves — ah  !  that 
is  indeed  exile.  Loneliness  is  not  in  being 
alone,  for  then  ministering  spirits  come 
76 


BlejanDer  Ibamllton 


to  soothe  and  bless — loneliness  is  to  en- 
dure the  presence  of  one  who  does  not 
understand. 

And  so  this  finely  organized,  receptive, 
aspiring  woman,  through  the  exercise  of  a 
will  that  seemed  masculine  in  its  strength, 
found  her  feet  mired  in  quicksand.  She 
struggled  to  free  herself  and  every  effort 
only  sank  her  deeper.  The  relentless 
environment  only  held  her  with  firmer 
clutch. 

She  thirsted  for  knowledge,  for  sweet 
music,  for  beauty,  for  sympathy,  for  at- 
tainment. She  had  a  heart-hunger  that 
none  about  her  understood.  She  strove 
for  better  things.  She  prayed  to  God, 
but  the  heavens  were  as  brass  ;  she  cried 
aloud  and  the  only  answer  was  the  throb- 
bing of  her  restless  heart. 

In  this  condition  a  son  was  born  to  her. 
They  called  his  name  Alexander  Hamil- 
ton. This  child  was  heir  to  all  of  his 
mother's  splendid  ambitions.  Her  lack 
of  opportunity  was  his  blessing  ;  for  the 
stifled  aspirations  of  her  soul  charged  his 
77 


Bleran&cr  Ibamllton 


being  witli  a  strong  man's  desires,  and  all 
of  the  mother's  silken,  unswerving  will 
was  woven  through  his  nature.  He  was 
to  surmount  obstacles  that  she  could  not 
overcome,  and  to  tread  under  his  feet 
difficulties  that  to  her  were  invincible. 

The  prayer  of  her  heart  was  answered, 
but  not  in  the  way  she  expected.  God 
listened  to  her  after  all ;  for  every  earnest 
prayer  has  its  answer,  and  not  a  sincere 
desire  of  the  heart  but  somewhere  will 
find  its  gratification. 

But  earth's  buffets  were  too  severe  for 
the  brave  young  woman  ;  the  forces  in 
league  against  her  were  more  than  she 
could  withstand,  and  before  her  boy  was 
out  of  baby  dresses  she  gave  up  the 
struggle,  and  went  to  her  long  rest, 
soothed  only  by  the  thought,  that  al- 
though she  had  sorely  blundered,  she  yet 
had  done  her  work  as  best  she  could. 


78 


II. 


AT  his  mother's  death  we  find  Alex- 
ander Hamilton  taken  in  charge 
by  certain  mystical  kinsmen. 
Evidently  he  was  well  cared  for,  as  he 
grew  into  a  handsome,  strong  lad, — 
small,  to  be  sure,  but  finely  formed. 
Where  he  learned  to  read,  write,  and 
cipher  we  know  not ;  he  seems  to  have 
had  one  of  those  active,  alert  minds  that 
can  acquire  knowledge  on  a  barren  island. 

When  nine  years  old  he  signed  his 
name  as  witness  to  a  deed.  The  signa- 
ture is  needlessly  large  and  bold,  and 
written  with  careful  schoolboy  pains,  but 
the  writing  shows  the  same  characteris- 
tics that  mark  the  thousand  and  one 
dispatches  which  we  have,  signed  at  bot- 
tom, "  G.  Washington." 

At  twelve  years  of  age  he  was  clerk  in 
79 


Blejan&cr  Ibamilton 


a  general  store  ;  one  of  those  country 
stores  where  everything  is  kept,  from  rib- 
bon to  whiskey.  There  were  other  help- 
ers iu  the  store,  full  grown  ;  but  when  the 
proprietor  went  away  for  a  few  days  into 
the  interior,  the  dark,  slim  youngster  took 
charge  of  the  bookkeeping  and  cash  ; 
and  made  such  shrewd  exchanges  of  mer- 
chandise for  produce  that  when  the  "  Old 
Man  "  returned,  the  lad  was  rewarded  by 
two  pats  on  the  head  and  a  raise  in  sal- 
ary of  one  shilling  a  week. 

About  this  time  the  boy  was  also  show- 
ing signs  of  literary  skill  by  writing  sun- 
dry poems  and  "  compositions,"  and  one 
of  his  efforts  iu  this  line  describing  a 
tropical  hurricane  was  published  in  a 
London  paper.  This  opened  the  eyes  of 
the  mvstical  kinsmen  to  the  fact  that  they 
had  a  genius  among  them,  and  the  elder 
Hamilton  was  importuned  for  money  to 
send  the  boy  to  Boston  that  he  might  re- 
ceive a  proper  education  and  come  back 
and  own  the  store  and  be  a  magistrate 
and  great  man.    No  doubt  the  lad  pressed 


aiejaiiDer  Ibamilton 


the  issue,  too,  for  his  ambition  had  al- 
ready begun  to  ferment,  as  we  find  him 
writing  to  a  friend  :  "  I  '11  risk  my  life, 
though  not  my  character,  to  exalt  my 
station." 

Most  great  things  in  America  have  to 
take  their  rise  in  Boston  ;  so  it  seems 
meet  that  Alexander  Hamilton,  aged  fif- 
teen, a  British  subject,  should  first  set 
foot  on  American  soil  at  Long  Wharf, 
Boston.  He  took  a  ferry  over  to  Cam- 
bridgeport  and  walked  through  the  woods 
three  miles  to  Harvard  College.  Possibly 
he  did  not  remain  because  his  training  in 
a  bookish  way  had  not  been  sufficient  for 
him  to  enter,  and  possibly  he  did  not  like 
the  Puritanic  visage  of  the  old  professor 
who  greeted  him  on  the  threshold  of 
Massachusetts  Hall  ;  at  any  rate  he  soon 
made  his  way  to  New  Haven.  Yale  suited 
him  no  better,  and  he  took  a  boat  for 
New  York. 

He  had  letters  to  several  good  clergy- 
men at  New  York  and  they  proved  wise 
and  good  counsellors.  The  boy  was  ad- 
8i 


BlejanDec  iDamUton 


vised  to  take  a  course  at  the  Grammar 
School  at  Elizabethtown,  New  Jersey. 

There  he  remained  a  year  applying 
himself  most  vigoroiisly,  and  the  next 
fall  he  knocked  at  the  gate  of  King's 
College.  It  is  called  Columbia  now  be- 
cause kings  in  America  went  out  of  fash- 
ion, and  all  honors  formerly  paid  to  the 
king  were  turned  over  to  Miss  Colum- 
bia, Goddess  of  Freedom. 

King's  College  swung  wide  its  doors  for 
the  swarth}-  little  West  Indian.  He  was 
allowed  to  choose  his  own  course  and 
every  advantage  of  the  university  was 
oflFered  him.  In  a  university  you  get  just 
all  j'ou  are  able  to  hold  ;  it  depends  upon 
yourself,  and  at  the  last  all  men  who  are 
made  at  all  are  self-made. 

Hamilton  improved  each  passing  mo- 
ment as  it  flew  ;  with  the  help  of  a  tutor 
he  threw  himself  into  his  work,  gathering 
up  knowledge  with  the  quick  perception 
and  eager  alertness  of  one  from  whom  the 
good  things  of  earth  have  been  withheld. 

Yet  he  lived  well  and  spent  his  money 
82 


BlcranOei  1[3amiltoii 


as  if  there  were  plenty  more  where  it 
came  from  ;  but  he  was  never  dissipated 
nor  wasteful. 

This  was  in  the  j'ear  1774,  and  the  Col- 
onies were  in  a  state  of  political  excite- 
ment. Young  Hamilton's  sympathies 
were  all  with  the  mother  country.  He 
looked  upon  the  Americans,  for  the  most 
part,  as  a  rude,  crude,  and  barbaric  peo- 
ple, who  should  be  very  grateful  for  the 
protection  of  such  an  all-powerful  coun- 
try as  England.  At  his  boarding-house 
and  at  schoil  he  argued  the  question 
hotly,  defending  England's  right  to  tax 
her  dependencies. 

One  fine  day  one  of  his  schoolmates 
put  the  question  to  him  flatly  :  "  lu  case 
of  war  on  which  side  will  you  fight  ? ' ' 
Hamilton  answered  :  "  On  the  side  of 
England." 

But  by  the  next  day  he  had  reasoned  it 
out  that  if  England  succeeded  in  sup- 
pressing the  rising  insurrection  she  would 
take  all  credit  to  herself;  and  if  the  Col- 
onies succeeded  there  would  be  honors 
83 


BlejanDer  Ibamilton 


for  those  who  did  the  work.  Suddenly 
it  came  over  him  that  there  was  such  a 
thing  as  "the  divine  right  of  insurrec- 
tion," and  that  there  was  no  reason  why 
men  living  in  America  should  be  taxed 
to  support  a  government  across  the  sea. 
The  wealth  produced  in  America  should 
be  used  to  develop  America. 

He  was  young,  and  burning  with  a 
lofty  ambition.  He  knew,  and  had  known 
all  along,  that  he  would  some  day  be 
great  and  famous  and  powerful — here  was 
the  opportunity. 

And  so  next  day  he  annouuced  at  the 
boarding-house  that  the  eloquence  and 
logic  of  his  messmates  were  too  powerful 
to  resist — he  believed  the  Colonies  and 
the  messmates  were  in  the  right.  Then 
several  bottles  were  brought  in,  and 
success  was  drunk  to  all  men  who  strove 
for  liberty. 

Patriotic  sentiment  is  at  the  last  self- 
interest  ;  in    fact    Herbert    Spencer    de- 
clares that  there  is  no  sane   thought  or 
rational  act  but  has  its  root  in  egoism. 
84 


BlejanDcr  Ibamilton 


Shortly  after  the  youug  man's  con- 
version there  was  a  mass-meeting  held 
in  "  The  Fields,"  which  meant  the  wilds 
of  what  is  now  the  region  of  Twenty- 
third  Street.  Young  Hamilton  stood  in 
the  crowd  and  heard  the  various  speakers 
plead  the  cause  of  the  Colonies,  and  vu-ge 
that  New  York  should  stand  firm  with 
Massachusetts  against  the  further  en- 
croachments and  persecutions  of  Eng- 
land. There  were  many  Tories  in  the 
crowd,  for  New  York  was  with  King 
George  as  against  Massachusetts,  and 
these  Tories  asked  the  speakers  embar- 
rassing questions  that  the  speakers  failed 
to  answer.  And  all  the  time  young 
Hamilton  found  himself  nearer  and 
nearer  the  platform.  Finally  he  under- 
took to  reply  to  a  talkative  Tory  and 
some  one  shouted,  "  Give  him  the  plat- 
form— the  platform  !  "  and  in  a  moment 
this  seventeen-year-old  boy  found  himself 
facing  two  thousand  people.  There  was 
hesitation  and  embarrassment,  but  the 
shouts  of  one  of  his  college  chums,  "  Give 
85 


BlejaiiOer  ibanvnton 


it  to  'em  !  Give  it  to  'em  !  "  filled  in  an 
awkward  instant,  and  he  began  to  speak. 
There  was  logic  and  lucidity  of  expres- 
sion, and  as  he  talked  the  air  became 
charged  with  reasons,  and  all  he  had  to 
do  was  to  reach  up  and  seize  them. 

His  strong  and  passionate  nature  gave 
gravity  to  his  sentences  and  every  quib- 
bling objector  found  himself  answered, 
and  more  than  answered,  and  the  speak- 
ers who  were  to  present  the  case  found 
this  stripling  doing  the  work  so  much 
better  than  they  could,  that  they  urged 
him  on  with  applause  and  loud  cries  of 
"Bravo  !  Bravo  !  " 

Immediately  at  the  close  of  Hamilton's 
speech  the  chairman  had  the  good  sense 
to  declare  the  meeting  adjourned — thus 
shutting  off  all  reply,  as  well  as  closing 
the  mouths  of  the  minnow  orators  who 
usually  pop  up  to  neutralize  the  impres- 
sion that  the  strong  man  has  made. 

Hamilton's  speech  was  the  talk  of  the 
town.    The  leading  Whigs  sought  him  out 
and  begged  that  he  would   write  down 
86 


aieian&er  Ibamiltott 


his  address  so  that  they  could  print  it 
as  a  pamphlet  iu  reply  to  the  Tory  pam- 
phleteers who  were  vigorously  circulat- 
ing their  wares.  The  pens  of  ready 
writers  were  scarce  in  those  days  :  men 
could  argue,  but  to  present  a  forcible 
written  brief  was  another  thing.  So 
young  Hamilton  put  his  reasons  on  paper 
and  their  success  surprised  the  boys  at 
the  boarding-house,  and  the  college 
chums  and  the  professors,  and  probably 
himself  as  well.  His  name  was  on  the 
lips  of  all  Whigdom,  and  the  Tories  sent 
messengers  to  buy  him  off. 

But  Congress  was  willing  to  pay  its 
defenders,  and  money  came  from  some- 
where ;  not  much,  but  all  the  young  man 
needed.  College  was  dropped  ;  the  polit- 
ical pot  boiled  ;  and  the  study  of  history, 
economics,  and  statecraft  filled  the  day- 
light hours  to  the  brim  and  often  ran 
over  into  the  night. 

The  winter  of  1775  passed  away  ;  the 
plot  thickened.  New  York  had  reluc- 
tantly consented  to  be  represented  in 
87 


aiejanOer  Ibamiltoii 


Congress  and  agreed  grumpily  to  join 
hands  with  the  Colonies.  The  redcoats 
had  marched  out  to  Concord — and  back  ; 
and  the  embattled  farmers  had  stood  and 
fired  the  shot  "  heard  'round  the  world." 

Hamilton  was  working  hard  to  bring 
New  York  over  to  an  understanding  that 
she  must  stand  firm  against  English  rule. 
He  organized  meetings,  gave  addresses, 
wrote  letters,  newspaper  articles,  and 
pamphlets.  Then  he  joined  a  military 
£ompan\^  and  was  perfecting  himself  in 
the  science  of  war. 

There  were  frequent  outbreaks  be- 
tween Torj-  mobs  and  Whigs,  and  the 
breaking  up  of  your  opponents'  meeting 
was  looked  upon  as  a  pleasant  pastime. 

Then  came  the  British  ship  Asia  and 
opened  fire  on  the  town.  This  no  doubt 
made  Whigs  of  a  good  many  Tories. 
Whig  sentiment  was  on  the  increase  ; 
gangs  of  men  marched  through  the 
streets  and  the  king's  stores  were  broken 
into,  and  prominent  Royalists  found  their 
houses  being  threatened. 


BlejanOcr  Ibamilton 


Dr.  Cooper,  President  of  King's 
College,  had  been  very  pronounced  in  his 
rebukes  to  Congress  and  the  Colonies, 
and  a  mob  made  its  way  to  his  house. 
Arriving  there,  Hamilton  and  his  chum 
Troup  were  found  on  the  steps,  deter- 
mined to  protect  the  place.  Hamilton 
stepped  forward,  and  in  a  strong  speech 
urged  that  Dr.  Cooper  had  merely  ex- 
pressed his  own  private  views,  which  he 
had  a  right  to  do,  and  the  house  must 
not  on  any  account  be  molested.  While 
the  parley  was  in  progress,  old  Dr. 
Cooper  himself  appeared  at  one  of  the 
upper  windows  and  excitedly  cautioned 
the  crowd  not  to  listen  to  that  blatant 
young  rapscallion  Hamilton,  as  he  was  a 
rogue  and  a  varlet  and  a  vagrom.  The 
good  Doctor  then  slammed  the  window 
and  escaped  by  the  back  way. 

His  remarks  raised  a  laugh  in  which 
even  young  Hamilton  joined,  but  his 
mistake  was  very  natural  in  view  of  the 
fact  that  he  only  knew  that  Hamilton 
bad  deserted  the  college  and  espoused 


BlejanDer  Ibamilton 


tlie  devil's  cause  ;  and  not  having  heard 
his  remarks,  but  seeing  him  standing  on 
his  steps  harangiiing  a  crowd,  thought 
surely  he  was  endeavoring  to  work  up 
mischief  against  his  old  preceptor,  who 
had  once  plucked  him  in  Greek. 

It  seems  to  have  been  the  intention  of 
his  guardians  that  the  limit  of  young 
Hamilton's  stay  in  America  was  to  be 
two  years,  and  by  that  time  his  education 
would  be  "complete,"  and  he  would  re- 
turn to  the  West  Indies  and  surprise  the 
natives. 

But  his  father,  who  supplied  the  money, 
and  the  mystical  kinsmen  who  sup- 
plied advice,  and  the  kind  friends  who 
had  given  him  letters  to  the  Presby- 
terian clergymen  at  New  York  and 
Princeton  had  figured  without  their  host. 
Young  Hamilton  knew  all  that  Nevis 
had  in  store  for  him  :  he  knew  its  little- 
ness, its  contumely  and  disgrace,  and  in 
the  secret  recesses  of  his  own  strong  heart 
he  had  slipped  the  cable  that  held  him  to 
the  past.  No  more  remittances  from 
90 


BlejanOer  Ibamtlton 


home ;  no  more  solicitous  advice ;  no 
more  kindly,  loving  letters — the  past  was 
dead.  For  England  he  once  had  had  an 
idolatrous  regard  ;  to  him  she  had  once 
been  the  protector  of  his  native  laud, 
the  empress  of  the  sea,  the  enlightener 
of  mankind  ;  but  henceforth  he  was  an 
American. 

He  was  to  fight  America's  battles,  to 
share  in  her  victory,  to  help  make  of  her 
a  Nation,  and  to  weave  his  name  into  the 
web  of  her  history  so  that  so  long  as  the 
United  States  of  America  shall  be  remem- 
bered, shall  be  remembered  also  the 
name  of  Alexander  Hamiltou. 


91 


ni. 

WHAT  General  Washington  called 
his  "  family  "  usually  consisted 
of  sixteen  men.  These  were 
his  aides,  and  more  than  that,  his  coun- 
sellors and  friends.  In  Washington's 
frequent  use  of  that  expression,  "  m^- 
family,"  there  is  a  touch  of  affection  that 
we  do  not  expect  to  find  in  the  tents  of 
war.  In  rank  the  staff  ran  the  gamut 
from  captain  to  general.  Each  man  had 
his  appointed  work  and  made  a  daily  re- 
port to  his  chief.  When  not  in  actual 
action,  the  family  dined  together  daily, 
and  the  affair  was  conducted  with  consid- 
erable ceremony.  Washington  sat  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  large,  handsome,  and 
dignified.  At  his  right  hand  was  seated 
the  guest  of  honor  and  there  were  usually 
several  invited  friends.  At  his  left  sat 
92 


HlejaiiDer  Ibamilton 


Alexander  Hamilton,  ready  with  quick 
pen  to  record  the  orders  of  his  chief. 

And  niethinks  it  would  have  been  quite 
worth  while  to  have  had  a  place  at  that 
board,  and  looked  down  the  table  at  "  the 
strong  fine  face,  tinged  with  melancholy," 
of  Washington  ;  and  the  cheerj^  youthful 
faces  of  Lawrence,  Tilghman,  Lee,  Aaron 
Burr,  Alexander  Hamilton,  and  the  others 
of  that  brave  and  handsome  company. 
Well  might  they  have  called  Washington 
father,  for  this  he  was  in  spirit  to  them 
all — grave,  gentle,  courteous,  and  mag- 
nanimous, yet  exacting  strict  and  instant 
obedience  from  all  ;  and  well,  too,  may 
we  imagine  that  this  obedience  was  freely 
and  cheerfully  given. 

Hamilton  became  one  of  Washington's 
family  on  March  i,  1777,  with  the  rank 
of  lieutenant-colonel.  He  was  barely 
twenty  years  of  age  ;  Washington  was 
forty-seven,  and  the  average  age  of  the 
family,  omitting  its  head,  was  twenty- 
five.  All  had  been  selected  on  account 
of  superior  intelligence  and  a  record  of 
93 


Blejander  IbanUlton 


dashing  courage.  When  Hamilton  took 
his  place  at  the  board,  he  was  the  young- 
est member,  save  one.  In  point  of  liter- 
ary talent,  he  stood  among  the  very 
foremost  in  the  country,  for  then  there 
was  no  literature  in  America  save  the 
literature  of  politics  ;  and  as  an  officer, 
he  had  shown  rare  skill  and  bravery. 

And  yet,  such  was  Hamilton's  ambition 
and  confidence  in  himself,  that  he  hesi- 
tated to  accept  the  position,  and  con- 
sidered it  an  act  of  sacrifice  to  do  so.  But 
having  once  accepted,  he  threw  himself 
into  the  work  and  became  Washington's 
most  intimate  and  valued  assistant. 
Washington's  correspondence  with  his 
generals,  with  Congress,  and  the  written 
decisions  demanded  daily  on  hundreds 
of  minor  questions,  mostly  devolved  on 
Hamilton,  for  work  gravitates  to  him 
who  can  do  it  best.  A  simple  "Yes," 
"No,"  or  "Perhaps"  from  the  chief 
must  be  elaborated  into  a  diplomatic  let- 
ter, conveying  just  the  right  shade  of 
meaning,  all  with  its  proper  emphasis  and 
94 


MONUMENT   TO   HAMILTON,   Trinity  Churchyard,  Nesv  York. 


BlejanOer  Ibamilton 


show  of  dignity  aud  respect.  Thousands 
of  these  dispatches  can  now  be  seen  at 
the  Capitol  ;  and  the  ease,  grace,  direct- 
ness, and  insight  shown  in  them  are  re- 
markable. There  is  no  muddy  rhetoric 
or  befuddled  clauses.  They  were  written 
by  one  with  a  clear  understanding,  who 
was  intent  that  the  person  addressed 
should  understand,  too.  Many  of  these 
dispatches  and  proclamations  were  merely 
signed  by  Washington,  but  a  few  reveal 
interlined  sentences  and  an  occasional 
word  changed  in  Washington's  hand, 
thus  showing  that  all  was  closely  scruti- 
nized aud  digested. 

As  a  member  of  Washington's  stafiF, 
Hamilton  did  not  have  the  independent 
command  that  he  so  much  desired  ;  but 
he  endured  that  heroic  winter  at  Valley 
Forge,  was  present  at  all  the  important 
battles,  took  an  active  part  in  most  of 
them,  and  always  gained  honor  aud  dis- 
tinction. 

As  an  aide  to  Washington,  Hamilton's 
most  important  mission  was  when  he  was 
95 


Blejan&er  Ibamtlton 


sent  to  General  Gates  to  secure  reinforce- 
ments for  the  Southern  army.  Gates  had 
defeated  Burgoyne  and  won  a  full  dozen 
stern  victories  in  the  North.  In  the 
meantime  Washington  had  done  nothing 
but  make  a  few  brave  retreats.  Gates's 
army  was  made  up  of  hardy  and  seasoned 
soldiers,  who  had  met  the  enemy  and  de- 
feated him  over  and  over  again.  The 
flush  of  success  was  on  their  banners  ; 
and  Washington  knew  that  if  a  few  thou- 
sand of  those  rugged  veterans  could  be 
secured  to  reinforce  his  own  well-nigh 
discouraged  troops,  victory  would  also 
perch  upon  the  banners  of  the  South. 

As  a  superior  oiEcer  he  had  the  right  to 
demand  these  troops  ;  but  to  reduce  the 
force  of  a  general  who  is  making  an  ex- 
cellent success  is  not  the  common  rule  of 
war.  The  country  looked  upon  Gates  as 
its  savior,  and  Gates  was  feeling  a  little 
that  way  himself.  Gates  had  but  to  de- 
mand it,  and  the  position  of  Commander- 
in-Chief  would  go  to  him.  Washington 
thoroughly  realized  this,  and  therefore 
96 


Blejan&er  Ibamflton 


hesitated  about  issuing  an  order  request- 
ing a  part  of  Gates's  force.  To  secure 
these  troops  as  if  the  suggestion  came 
from  Gates  was  a  most  delicate  commis- 
sion. Alexander  Hamilton  was  dispatched 
to  Gates's  headquarters,  armed,  as  a  last 
resort,  with  a  curt  military  order  to  the 
effect  that  he  should  turn  over  a  portion 
of  his  army  to  Washington.  Hamilton's 
orders  were  :  "Bring  the  troops,  but  do 
not  deliver  this  order  unless  you  are 
obliged  to." 

Hamilton  brought  the  troops,  and  re- 
turned the  order  with  seal  intact. 

The  act  of  his  sudden  breaking  with 
Washington  has  been  much  exaggerated. 
In  fact,  it  was  not  a  sudden  act  at  all,  for 
it  had  been  premeditated  for  some  months. 
There  was  a  woman  in  the  case.  Hamil- 
ton had  done  more  than  conquer  General 
Gage  on  that  Northern  trip  :  at  Albany 
he  had  met  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Gen- 
eral Schuyler,  and  won  her  after  what  has 
been  spoken  of  as  "a  short  and  sharp 
skirmish."  Both  Alexander  and  Eliza- 
97 


aiejauDcr  Ibamtlton 


beth  regarded  "  a  clerkship  "  as  quite  too 
limited  a  career  for  cue  so  gifted  ;  they 
felt  tbat  nothing  less  than  commander  of 
a  division  would  answer.  How  to  break 
loose?   That  was  the  question. 

And  when  Washington  met  him  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs  of  the  New  Windsor 
Hotel  and  sharply  chided  him  for  being 
late,  the  young  man  embraced  the  oppor- 
tunity and  said,  "  Sir,  since  you  think  I 
have  been  remiss,  we  part." 

It  was  the  act  of  a  boy  ;  and  the  figure 
of  this  boy,  five  feet  five  inches  high, 
weight  one  hundred  and  twenty,  aged 
twenty-four,  talking  back  to  his  chief, 
six  feet  three,  weight  two  hundred,  aged 
fifty,  has  its  comic  side.  Military  rule 
demands  that  every  one  shall  be  on  time, 
and  Washington's  rebuke  was  proper  and 
right.  Further  than  this,  one  feels  that  if 
he  had  followed  up  his  rebuke  by  boxing 
the  young  man's  ears  for  "  sassing  back  " 
he  would  still  not  have  been  outside  the 
lines  of  duty. 

But  an  hour  afterwards  we  find  Wash- 


BlejaiiDec  Ibamilton 


ington  sending  for  the  j'oiith  and  endeav- 
oring to  nieud  the  break.  And  although 
Hamilton  proudly  repelled  his  advances, 
Washington  forgave  all  and  generously 
did  all  he  could  to  advance  the  young 
man's  interests.  Washington's  magnan- 
imity was  absolutely  without  flaw,  but 
his  attitude  towards  Hamilton  has  a  more 
suggestive  meaning  when  we  consider 
that  it  was  a  testimonial  of  the  high  esti- 
mate he  placed  on  Hamilton's  ability. 

At  York  town,  Washiugton  gave  Ham- 
ilton the  perilous  privilege  of  leading 
the  assault.  Hamilton  did  his  work  well, 
rushing  with  fiery  impetuosity  upon  the 
fort — carried  all  before  him,  and  in  ten 
minutes  had  planted  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
on  the  ramparts  of  the  enemy. 

It  was  a  fine  and  fitting  close  to  his 
military  career. 


99 


IV. 

WHEN  Washington  became  Presi- 
dent, the  most  important  office 
to  be  filled  was  that  of  man- 
ager of  the  exchequer.  In  fact,  all  there 
was  of  it  was  the  office — there  was  no 
treasury,  no  mint,  no  fixed  revenue,  no 
credit ;  but  there  were  debts — foreign  and 
domestic — and  clamoring  creditors  by  the 
thousand.  The  debts  consisted  of  what 
was  then  the  vast  sum  of  eighty  million 
dollars.  The  treasury  was  empty.  Wash- 
ington had  many  advisers,  who  argued 
that  the  Nation  could  never  live  under 
such  a  weight  of  debt— the  only  way  was 
flatly  and  frankly  to  repudiate — wipe  the 
slate  clean — and  begin  afresh. 

This  was  what  the  country  expected 
would  be  done ;  and  so  low  was  the  hope 
of  payment,  that  creditors  could  be  found 


BlcranDcr  HDamilton 


who  were  willing  to  compromise  their 
claims  for  ten  cents  ou  the  dollar.  Robert 
Morris,  who  had  managed  the  finances 
during  the  period  of  the  Confederation, 
utterly  refused  to  attempt  the  task  again, 
but  he  named  a  man  who,  he  said,  could 
bring  order  out  of  chaos,  if  any  living  man 
could.  That  man  was  Alexander  Hamil- 
ton. Washington  appealed  to  Hamilton, 
offering  him  the  position  of  Secretary  of 
the  Treasury.  Hamilton,  aged  thirty-two, 
gave  up  his  law  practice,  which  was  yield- 
ing him  ten  thousand  a  year,  to  accept 
this  oflSce  that  paid  three  thousand  five 
hundred.  Before  the  British  cannon 
Washington  did  not  lose  heart,  but  to  face 
the  angry  mob  of  creditors  waving  white- 
paper  claims  made  him  quake  ;  but  with 
Hamilton's  presence  his  courage  came 
back. 

The  first  thing  that  Hamilton  decided 
upon  was  that  there  should  be  no  repudi- 
ation— no  offer  of  compromise  would  be 
considered — every  man  should  be  paid  in 
full.     And  further  than  this,  the  general 

lOI 


BlejanDer  Ibamilton 


government  would  assume  the  entire  war 
debt  of  each  individual  State.  Washing- 
ton concurred  with  Hamilton  on  these 
points,  but  he  could  make  neither  oral 
nor  written  argument  in  a  way  that  would 
convince  others  ;  so  this  task  was  left  to 
Hamilton.  Hamilton  appeared  before 
Congress  and  explained  his  plans— ex- 
plained them  so  lucidly  and  with  such 
force  and  precision  that  he  made  an  in- 
delible impression.  There  were  grum- 
blers and  complainers,  but  these  did  not 
and  could  not  reply  to  Hamilton,  for 
he  saw  all  over  and  around  the  subject 
and  they  saw  it  only  at  an  angle.  Hamil- 
ton had  studied  the  history  of  finance 
and  knew  the  financial  schemes  of  every 
country.  No  question  of  statecraft  could 
be  asked  him  for  which  he  did  not  have 
a  reply  ready.  He  knew  the  science  of 
government  as  no  other  man  in  America 
then  did,  and  recognizing  this,  Congress 
asked  him  to  prepare  reports  on  the  col- 
lection of  revenue,  the  coasting  trade, 
the  effects  of  a  tariff,  ship-building,  post- 


aiejanDer  Ibamiltoii 

ofl&ce  extension,  and  also  a  scheme  for  a 
judicial  system.  When  in  doubt  they 
asked  Hamilton. 

And  all  the  time  Hamilton  was  working 
at  this  bewildering  maze  of  detail  he  was 
evolving  that  financial  policy,  broad,  com- 
prehensive, and  minute,  which  endures 
even  to  this  day,  even  to  the  various 
forms  of  accounts  that  are  now  kept 
at  the  Treasury  Department  at  Washing- 
ton. 

His  insistence  that  to  preserve  the 
credit  of  a  nation  every  debt  must  be  paid 
is  an  idea  that  no  statesman  now  dare 
question.  The  entire  aim  and  intent  of 
his  policy  was  high,  open,  and  frank 
honesty.  The  people  should  be  made  to 
feel  an  absolute  security  in  their  govern- 
ment, and  this  being  so,  all  forms  of  in- 
dustry would  prosper,  "  and  the  prosperity 
of  the  people  is  the  prosperity  of  the 
Nation."  To  such  a  degree  of  confidence 
did  Hamilton  raise  the  public  credit  that 
in  a  very  short  time  the  government 
found  no  trouble  in  borrowing  all  the 
103 


BlejauDer  Ibamiltou 


money  it  needed  at  four  per  cent ;  and 
yet  this  was  done  in  face  of  the  fact  that 
its  debt  had  increased. 

Just  here  was  where  his  policy  invited 
its  strongest  and  most  bitter  attack.  For 
there  are  men  to-day  who  cannot  com- 
prehend that  a  public  debt  is  a  public 
blessing,  and  that  all  liabilities  have  a 
strict  and  undivorceable  relationship  to 
assets.  Alexander  Hamilton  was  a  leader 
of  men.  He  could  do  the  thinking  of  his 
time  and  map  out  a  policy,  "arranging 
every  detail  for  a  kingdom."  He  has 
been  likened  to  Napoleon  in  his  ability 
to  plan  and  execute  with  rapid  and  mar- 
vellous precision,  and  surely  the  similarity 
is  striking. 

But  he  was  not  an  adept  in  the  difficult 
and  delicate  art  of  diplomacy — he  could 
not  wait.  He  demanded  instant  obedi- 
ence, and  lacked  all  of  that  large,  patient, 
calm  magnanimity  so  splendidly  shown 
forth  since  by  Abraham  Lincoln.  Unlike 
Jefferson,  his  great  rival,  he  could  not 
calmly  and  silently  bide  his  time.  But  I 
104 


BlejaiiDcc  Ibaniilton 


will  not  quarrel  with  a  man  because  he  is 
not  some  one  else. 

He  saw  things  clearly  at  a  glance ; 
he  knew  because  he  knew  ;  and  if  others 
would  not  follow,  he  had  the  audacity  to 
push  on  alone.  This  recklessness  to  the 
opinion  of  the  slow  and  plodding,  this 
indifference  to  the  dull,  gradually  drew 
upon  him  the  hatred  of  a  class. 

They  said  he  was  a  monarchist  at  heart 
and  "such  men  are  dangerous."  The 
country  became  divided  into  those  who 
were  with  Hamilton  and  those  who  were 
against  him.  The  very  transcendent 
quality  of  his  genius  wove  the  net  that 
was  to  catch  his  feet  and  work  his  ruin. 


105 


V. 


IT  has  been  the  usual  practice  for  nearly 
a  hundred  years  to  refer  to  Aaron 
Burr  as  a  roue,  a  rogue,  and  a  thor- 
ough villain,  who  took  the  life  of  a  gentle 
and  innocent  man. 

I  have  no  apologies  to  make  for  Colonel 
Burr ;  the  record  of  his  life  lies  open  in 
many  books,  and  I  would  neither  conceal 
nor  explain  away. 

If  I  should  attempt  to  describe  the  man 
and  liken  him  to  another,  that  man  would 
be  Alexander  Hamilton. 

They  were  the  same  age  within  ten 
months  ;  they  were  the  same  height 
within  an  inch ;  their  weight  was  the 
same  within  five  pounds,  and  in  tempera- 
ment and  disposition  they  resembled  each 
other  as  brothers  seldom  do.  Each  was 
passionate,  ambitious,  proud. 
io6 


Ble£ani)er  H^amilton 

lu  the  drawing-room  where  one  of  these 
men  chanced  to  be  there  was  room  for  no 
one  else — such  was  the  vivacity,  the  wit, 
and  the  generous,  glowing  good-nature 
shown.  With  women  the  manner  of  these 
men  was  most  gentle  and  courtly  ;  and 
the  low,  alluring  voice  of  each  was  music's 
honeyed  flattery  set  to  words. 

Both  were  much  under  the  average 
height,  yet  the  carriage  of  each  was  so 
proud  and  imposing  that  everywhere  they 
went  men  made  way,  and  women  turned 
and  stared. 

Both  were  public  speakers  and  lawyers 
of  such  eminence  that  they  took  their 
pick  of  clients  and  charged  all  the  fee 
that  policy  would  allow.  In  debate  there 
was  a  wilful  aggressiveness,  a  fiery  sure- 
ness,  a  lofty  certainty,  that  moved  judges 
and  juries  to  do  their  bidding.  Mr.  Henry 
Cabot  I/odge  says,  that  so  great  was  Ham- 
ilton's renown  as  a  lawyer  that  clients 
flocked  to  him  because  the  belief  was 
abroad  that  no  judge  dare  decide  against 
him.  With  Burr  it  was  the  same. 
107 


BlejanDcr  Ibamilton 

Both  made  large  sums,  but  spent  them 
all  as  fast  as  made. 

In  point  of  classic  education  Burr  had 
the  advantage.  He  was  the  grandson  of 
the  Rev.  Jonathan  Edwards.  In  his 
strong  personal  magnetism,  and  keen, 
many-sided  intellect,  Aaron  Burr  strongly 
resembled  the  gifted  Presbyterian  divine 
who  wrote  Siiifirrs  in  the  Hands  of  an 
Angry  God.  His  father  was  the  Rev. 
Aaron  Burr,  President  of  Princeton  Col- 
lege. He  was  a  graduate  of  Princeton, 
and  like  Hamilton  always  had  the  ability 
to  focus  his  mind  on  the  subject  in  hand, 
and  wring  from  it  its  very  core.  Burr's 
reputation  as  to  his  susceptibility  to  wom- 
en's charms  is  the  world's  common — very 
common— property.  He  was  unhappily 
married ;  his  wife  died  before  he  was 
thirty  ;  he  was  a  man  of  ardent  nature  and 
stalked  through  the  world  a  conquering 
Don  Juan.  A  historian,  however,  records 
that  "  his  alliances  were  only  with  wom- 
en who  were  deemed  by  society  to  be 
respectable.  Married  women,  unhappily 
io8 


HlcjaiiDer  Ibamilton 


mated,  knowing  bis  reputation,  very 
often  placed  themselves  in  liis  way,  going 
to  him  for  advice,  as  moths  court  the 
flame.  Young,  tender,  and  innocent  girls 
had  no  charm  for  him." 

Hamilton  was  happily  married  to  a 
woman  of  aristocratic  family  ;  rich,  edu- 
cated, intellectual,  gentle,  and  worthy  of 
him  at  his  best.  They  had  a  family  of 
eight  children.  Hamilton  was  a  favorite 
of  women  everywhere,  and  was  mixed  up 
in  various  scandalous  intrigues.  He  was 
an  easy  mark  for  a  designing  woman.  In 
one  instance  the  affair  was  seized  upon 
by  his  political  foes,  and  made  capital 
of  to  his  sore  disadvantage.  Hamilton 
met  the  issue  by  writing  a  pamphlet,  lay- 
ing bare  the  entire  shameless  affair,  to 
the  horror  of  his  family  and  friends. 
Copies  of  this  pamphlet  maj'  be  seen  in 
the  rooms  of  the  American  Historical  So- 
ciety at  New  York. 

Burr  had  been  Attorney-General  of 
New  York  State,  and  also  United  States 
Senator.  Each  man  had  served  on  Wash- 
109 


BlejanCter  Ibamilton 


ington's  staff;  each  had  a  brilliant  mili- 
tary record  ;  each  had  acted  as  second  in 
a  duel  ;  each  recognized  the  honor  of  the 
code. 

Stern  political  differences  arose,  not  so 
much  through  matters  of  opinion  and 
conscience,  as  through  ambitious  rivalry. 
Neither  was  willing  the  other  should  rise, 
yet  both  thirsted  for  place  and  power. 
Burr  ran  for  the  Presidency  and  was 
sternly,  strongly,  bitterly  opposed  as  "  a 
dangerous  man  "  by  Hamilton. 

At  the  election  one  more  electoral  vote 
would  have  given  the  highest  office  of  the 
people  to  Aaron  Burr ;  as  it  was  he  tied 
with  Jefferson.  The  matter  was  thrown 
into  the  House  of  Representatives,  and 
Jefferson  was  given  the  office,  with  Burr 
as  Vice-President.  Burr  considered,  and 
perhaps  rightly,  that  were  it  not  for  Ham- 
ilton's assertive  influence  he  would  have 
been  President  of  the  United  States. 

While  still  Vice-President,  Burr  sought 
to  become  Governor  of  New  York,  think- 
ing this  the  surest  road  to  receiving  the 
no 


BlejanDcr  Ifjamilton 


nomination  for  the  Presidency  at  the 
next  election. 

Hamilton  openly  and  bitterly  opposed 
him,  and  the  office  went  to  another. 

Burr  considered,  and  rightly,  that  were 
it  not  for  Hamilton's  influence  he  would 
have  been  Governor  of  New  York. 

Burr,  smarting  under  the  sting  of  this 
continual  opposition  by  a  man  who  him- 
self was  shelved  politically  through  his 
own  too  fiery  ambition  sent  a  note  by 
his  friend  Van  Ness  to  Hamilton, 
asking  whether  the  language  he  had 
used  concerning  him  ("a  dangerous 
man")  referred  to  him  politically  or 
personally. 

Hamilton  replied  evasively,  saying  he 
could  not  recall  all  that  he  might  have 
said  during  fifteen  years  of  public  life. 
"  Especially,"  he  said  in  his  letter,  "it 
cannot  be  reasonably  expected  that  I 
shall  enter  into  any  explanation  upon  a 
basis  so  vague  as  you  have  adopted.  I 
trust  on  more  reflection  you  will  see  the 
matter  in  the  same  light.  If  not,  how- 
III 


BlejanDcr  Ibamilton 


ever,  I  only  regret  tlie  circumstances,  and 
must  abide  the  consequences." 

When  fighting  men  use  fighting  lan- 
guage they  invite  a  challenge.  Hamil- 
ton's excessively  polite  regret  that  "he 
must  abide  the  consequences "  simply 
meant  fight,  as  his  language  had  for  a 
space  of  five  years. 

A  challenge  was  sent  by  the  hand  of 
Pendleton.  Hamilton  accepted.  Being 
the  challenged  man  (for  duellists  are  al- 
vpays  polite)  he  was  given  the  choice  of 
weapons.     He  chose  pistols  at  ten  paces. 

At  seven  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
July  II,  1804,  the  participants  met  on  the 
heights  of  Weehawken,  overlooking  New 
York  Bay.  On  a  toss  Hamilton  won  the 
choice  of  position  and  his  second  also 
won  the  right  of  giving  the  word  to  fire. 

Each  man  removed  his  coat  and  cravat ; 
the  pistols  were  loaded  in  their  presence. 
As  Pendleton  handed  his  pistol  to  Ham- 
ilton he  asked,  "Shall  I  set  the  hair 
trigger  ?  "  "  Not  this  time,"  replied  Ham- 
ilton. With  pistols  primed  and  cocked, 
112 


BlejaiiDer  Ibamilton 


the  men  were  stationed  facing  each  other, 

thirty  feet  apart. 

Both  were  pale  but  free  from  any  visi- 
ble nervousness  or  excitement.  Neither 
had  partaken  of  stimulants.  Each  was 
asked  if  he  had  anything  to  say,  or  if  he 
knew  of  any  way  by  which  the  aflFair 
could  be  terminated  there  and  then. 

Each  answered  quietly  in  the  negative. 
Pendleton,  standing  fifteen  feet  to  the 
right  of  his  principal,  said  :  "  One — two — 
three — present!"  and  as  the  last  final 
sounding  of  the  letter  "t"  escaped  his 
teeth.  Burr  fired,  followed  almost  instantly 
by  the  other. 

Hamilton  arose  convulsively  on  his 
toes,  reeled,  and  Burr,  dropping  his  smok- 
ing pistol,  sprang  towards  him  to  support 
him,  a  look  of  regret  on  his  face. 

Van  Ness  raised  an  umbrella  over  the 
fallen  man,  and  motioned  Burr  to  be- 
gone. 

The  ball  passed  through   Hamilton's 
body,  breaking  a  rib,  and  lodging  in  the 
second  lumbar  vertebra. 
"3 


BlcjanDei  IF^amtlton 


The  bullet  from  Hamilton's  pistol  cut 
a  twig  four  feet  above  Burr's  head. 

While  he  was  lying  on  the  ground 
Hamilton  saw  his  pistol  near  and  said  : 
"  Look  out  for  that  pistol,  it  is  loaded — 
Pendleton  knows  I  did  not  intend  to  fire 
at  him !  " 

Hamilton  died  the  following  day,  first 
declaring  that  he  bore  Colonel  Burr  no 
ill-will. 

Colonel  Burr  said  he  very  much  regret- 
ted the  whole  afifair,  but  the  language  and 
attitude  of  Hamilton  forced  him  to  send  a 
challenge  or  remain  quiet  and  be  branded 
as  a  coward.  He  fully  realized  before 
the  meeting  that  if  he  killed  Hamilton 
it  was  a  political  death  for  him,  too. 

At  the  time  of  the  deed  Burr  had  no 
family  ;  Hamilton  had  a  wife  and  seven 
children,  his  oldest  son  having  fallen  in 
a  duel  fought  three  years  before  on  the 
identical  spot  where  he,  too,  fell. 

Burr  fled  the  country. 

Three  years  afterwards  he  was  arrested 
for  treason  in  trying  to  found  an  inde- 
114 


BlejaiiDer  Ibamiltoit 


pendent  state  within  the  borders  of  the 
United  States.  He  was  tried  and  found 
not  guilty. 

After  some  years  spent  abroad  he  re- 
turned and  took  up  the  practice  of  law 
in  New  York.  He  was  fairly  successful, 
lived  a  modest,  quiet  life,  and  died  Sep- 
tember 14,  1836,  aged  eighty  years. 

Hamilton's  widow  survived  him  just 
one  half  a  century,  dying  in  her  ninety- 
eighth  year. 

So  passeth  away  the  glory  of  the  world. 


"5 


SAMUEL  ADAMS 


117 


The  body  of  the  people  are  now  in  council. 
Their  opposition  grows  into  a  system.  They 
are  united  and  resolute.  And  if  the  British  ad- 
ministration and  Government  do  not  return  to 
the  principles  of  moderation  and  equity,  the  evil, 
which  they  profess  to  aim  at  preventing  by  their 
rigorous  measures,  will  the  sooner  be  biought  to 
pass,  viz.,  the  entire  separation  and  indepen- 
dence of  the  colonies. 

Letter  to  Arthur  Lee. 


Il8 


^^^'^^^^^^^.t;^   c^^^t 


/Uy:^^^i^ 


SAMUEL  ADAMS. 


SAMUEIv     and    John    Adams     were 
second  cousins,  having   the  same 
great-grandfather.     Between  them 
in  many  ways  there  was  a  marked  con- 
trast, but  true  to  their  New  England  in- 
stincts both  were  theologians. 

John  was  a  conservative  in  politics,  and 
at  first  had  little  sympathy  with  "those 
small-minded  men  who  refused  to  pay  a 
trivial  tax  on  their  tea  ;  and  who  would 
plunge  the  country  into  war  and  ruin  all 
for  a  matter  of  stamps."  John  was  born 
and  lived  at  the  village  of  Braintree.  He 
did  not  really  centre  his  mind  on  politics 
until  the  British  had  closed  all  law  courts 
in  Boston,  thus  making  his  profession 
119 


Samuel  BDams 


obsolete.  He  was  scholarly,  shrewd,  dip- 
lomatic, cautious,  good-natured,  fat,  and 
took  his  religion  with  a  wink.  He  was 
blessed  with  a  wife  who  was  worthy  of 
being  the  mother  of  kings  (or  presidents) ; 
he  lived  comfortably,  acquired  property, 
and  died  aged  ninety-two.  He  had  been 
President  and  seen  his  son  President  of  the 
United  States,  and  that  is  an  experience 
that  has  never  come  and  probably  never 
will  come  to  another  living  man,  for  there 
seems  to  be  an  unwritten  law  that  no  man 
under  fifty  shall  occupy  the  office  of 
Chief  Magistrate. 

Samuel  was  stern,  serious,  and  deeply 
in  earnest.  He  seldom  smiled  and  never 
laughed.  He  was  uncompromisingly  re- 
ligious, conscientious,  and  morally  un- 
bending. In  his  life  there  was  no  soft 
sentiment.  The  fact  that  he  ran  a  brew- 
ery can  be  excused  when  we  remember 
that  the  best  spirit  of  the  times  saw  noth- 
ing inconsistent  in  the  occupation  ;  and 
further  than  this  we  might  explain  in  ex- 
tenuation that  he  gave  the  business  in- 

I20 


Samuel  BOams 


diflFerent  attention  and  the  quality  of  his 
brew  was  said  to  be  very  bad. 

lu  religion  he  swerved  not  nor  wavered. 
He  was  a  Calvinist  and  clung  to  the  five 
points  with  a  tenacity  at  times  seeminglj' 
quite  unnecessary. 

When  in  that  first  Congress,  Samuel 
Adams  publicly  consented  to  the  opening 
of  the  meeting  with  religious  service 
conducted  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Duche,  an 
Episcopal  clergyman,  he  gave  a  violent 
wrench  to  his  conscience  and  an  awful 
shock  to  his  friends.  But  Mr.  Duch^ 
met  the  issue  in  the  true  spirit,  and  leav- 
ing his  detested  "popery  robe"  and 
prayer-book  at  home  uttered  an  extem- 
poraneous invocation,  without  a  trace  of 
intoning,  that  pleased  the  Puritans  and 
caused  one  of  them  to  remark,  "He  is 
surely  coming  over  to  the  Lord's  side  !  " 

But  in  politics,  Samuel  Adams  was  a 
liberal  of  the  liberals.  In  statecraft  the 
heresy  of  change  had  no  terrors  for  him, 
and  with  Hamlet,  he  might  have  said, 
"Oh,  reform  it  altogether." 

121 


Samuel  BDams 


The  limitations  set  in  every  character 
seem  to  prevent  a  man  from  being  gen- 
erous in  more  than  one  direction  ,  the 
bigot  in  religion  is  often  a  liberal 
in  politics,  and  vice  versa.  For  in- 
stance, physicians  are  almost  invaria- 
bly liberal  in  religious  matters,  but  are 
prone  to  call  a  man  "  Mister"  who  does 
not  belong  to  their  school ;  while  ortho- 
dox clergymen,  I  have  noticed,  usually 
employ  a  horaoeopathist. 

In  that  most  valuable  and  interesting 
work,  The  Diary  of  John  Adams,  the  au- 
thor refers  repeatedly  to  Samuel  Adams 
as  "Adams"  !  This  simple  way  of  using 
the  word  "  Adams  "  shows  a  world  of  ap- 
preciation for  the  man  who  blazed  the 
path  that  others  of  this  illustrious  name 
might  follow.  And  so  with  the  high  prec- 
edent in  mind,  I,  too,  will  drop  prefix  and 
call  my  subject  simply  "  Adams." 

On  the  authority  of  King  George,  Gen- 
eral Gage  made  an  offer  of  pardon  to  all 
save  two  who  had  figured  in  the  Boston 
uprising. 

122 


Samuel  BOams 


The  two  men  thus  honored  were  John 
Hancock  (whose  signature  the  King 
could  read  without  spectacles),  and  the 
other  was  "one,  S.  Adams." 

Adams,  however,  was  the  real  offender, 
and  the  plea  might  have  been  made  for 
John  Hancock  that  if  it  had  not  been 
for  accident  and  Adams  Hancock  would 
probably  have  remained  loyal  to  the 
mother  country. 

Hancock  was  aristocratic,  cultured,  and 
complacent.  He  was  the  richest  man  in 
New  England.  His  personal  interests 
were  on  the  side  of  peace  and  the  estab- 
lished order.  But  circumstances  and  the 
combined  tact  and  zeal  of  Adams  threw 
him  off  his  guard,  and  in  a  moment  of 
dalliance  the  seeds  of  sedition  found  lodg- 
ment in  his  brain.  And  the  more  he 
thought  about  it  the  nearer  he  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  Adams  was  right. 
But  let  the  fact  further  be  stated,  if  truth 
demands,  that  both  John  Hancock  and 
Samuel  Adams,  the  first  men  who  clearly 
and  boldly  expressed  the  idea  of  American 

123 


Samuel  BOams 


Independence,  were  moved  in  the  begin- 
ning by  personal  grievances. 

A  single  motion  made  before  the  British 
Parliament  by  we  know  not  whom,  and 
put  to  a  vote  by  the  Speaker,  bankrupted 
the  father  of  Samuel  Adams  and  robbed 
the  youth  of  his  patrimony. 

The  boy  was  then  seventeen  ;  old 
enough  to  know  that  from  plenty  his 
father  was  reduced  to  penury,  and 
this  because  England,  three  thousand 
miles  away,  had  interfered  with  the 
business  arrangements  of  the  Colony, 
and  made  unlawful  a  private  banking 
scheme. 

Then  did  the  boy  ask  the  question, 
What  moral  right  has  England  to  govern 
us,  anyway  ? 

From  thinking  it  over  he  began  to  for- 
mulate reasons.  He  discussed  the  subject 
at  odd  times  and  thought  of  it  continually, 
and,  in  1743,  when  he  prepared  his  grad- 
uation thesis  at  Harvard  College  he  chose 
for  his  subject,  "The  Doctrine  of  the 
Lawfulness  of  Resistance  to  the  Supreme 
124 


Samuel  BDams 


Magistrate  if  the  Commonwealth  cannot 
Otherwise  be  Preserved." 

When  Massachusetts  admitted  that  she 
was  under  subjection  to  the  King,  yet  ar- 
gued for  the  right  to  nulHfy  the  Acts  of 
the  English  Parliament,  she  took  exactly 
the  same  ground  that  South  Carolina  did 
a  hundred  years  later.  The  logic  of 
Samuel  Adams  and  Hayne  was  one  and 
the  same.  Yet  we  are  glad  that  Adams 
carried  his  point ;  and  we  rejoice  exceed- 
ingly that  Hayne  failed,  so  curious  are 
these  things  we  call  "  reasons." 

The  royalists,  who  heard  of  this  youth 
with  a  logical  mind,  denounced  him  with- 
out stint.  A  few  newspapers  upheld  him 
and  spoke  of  the  right  of  free  speech  and 
all  that,  reprinting  the  thesis  in  full. 
And  in  the  controversy  that  followed, 
young  Adams  was  always  a  prominent 
figure.  He  was  not  an  orator  in  the  pop- 
ular sense,  but  he  held  the  pen  of  a  ready 
writer,  and  through  the  Boston  papers 
kept  up  a  constant  fusillade. 

The  tricks  of  journalism  are  no  new 
125 


Samuel  aj>ams 


thing  belonging  to  the  fag  end  of  this 
century.  Young  Adams  wrote  letters 
over  the  nom  de  plume  of  Probono  Pub- 
lico, and  then  replied  to  them  over  the 
signature  of  Rex  Americus.  He  did  not 
adopt  as  his  motto  "Let  not  thy  left  hand 
know  what  thy  right  hand  doeth,"  for  he 
wrote  with  both  hands  and  each  hand 
was  in  the  secret. 

During  the  year  that  followed  his  grad- 
uation from  college  he  was  a  business 
man  and  a  poor  one,  for  a  man  w'ho  looks 
after  public  affairs  much  cannot  attend 
to  his  own.  But  he  managed  to  make 
shift  ;  and  when  too  closely  pressed  by 
creditors,  a  loan  from  Hancock,  or  John 
Adams,  Hancock's  attorney,  relieved  the 
pressure.  In  fact  when  he  went  to  Phil- 
adelphia ' '  on  that  very  important  er- 
rand "  he  rode  a  horse  borrowed  from 
John  Adams  and  his  Sunday  coat  was  the 
gift  of  a  thoughtful  friend. 

In  1763,  it  became  known  that  the 
British  Government  had  on  foot  a  scheme 
to  demand  a  tribute  from  the  colonies. 
126 


Samuel  BOams 


On  invitation  of  a  committee,  possibly 
appointed  by  Adams,  Adams  was  re- 
quested to  draw  up  instructions  to  the 
representatives  in  the  Colonial  Legisla- 
ture. Adams  did  so  and  the  document  is 
now  in  the  archives  of  the  old  State 
House  at  Boston,  in  the  plain  and  elegant 
penmanship  that  is  so  easily  recognized. 
This  document  calls  itself  "  The  First 
Public  Denial  of  the  Right  of  the  British 
Parliament  to  tax  the  Colonies  without 
their  Consent,  and  the  first  Public  Sug- 
gestion of  a  Union  on  the  part  of  the 
Colonies  to  Protect  themselves  against 
British  Aggression." 

The  style  of  the  paper  is  Incid,  firm 
and  logical  ;  it  combines  in  itself  the 
suggestion  of  all  there  was  to  be  said  or 
could  be  said  on  the  matter.  Adams  saw 
all  over  and  around  his  topic — no  un- 
pleasant surprise  could  be  sprung  on  him 
— twenty-five  years  had  he  studied  this 
one  theme.  He  had  made  himself  famil- 
iar with  the  political  history  of  every 
nation  so  far  as  such  history  could  be 
127 


Samuel  BDams 


gathered ;    lie    was   past    master    of  his 
subject. 

However,  when  he  was  forty  years  of 
age  his  followers  were  few  and  mostly  men 
of  small  influence.  The  Caulker's  Club 
was  the  home  of  the  sedition  and  many 
of  the  members  were  day -laborers.  But 
the  idea  of  independence  gradually  grew, 
and,  in  1765,  Adams  vvas  elected  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Massachusetts  Colonial  Legisla- 
ture. In  honor  of  his  writing  ability  he 
was  chosen  clerk  of  the  Assembly,  for  in 
all  public  gatherings  orators  are  chosen 
as  presidents  and  newspaper  men  for 
secretaries.  Thus  are  honors  distributed, 
and  thus,  too,  does  the  public  show  which 
talent  it  values  most. 

On  November  2,  1772,  on  motion  of 
Adams  a  committtee  of  several  hun- 
dred citizens  was  appointed  "  to  state 
the  Rights  of  the  Colonies  and  to  com- 
municate and  publish  them  to  the 
World  as  the  sense  of  the  Town,  with  the 
infringements  and  violations  thereof  that 
have  been  or  may  be  made  from  time  to 
128 


Samuel  Zl&ams 


time  ;  also  requesting  from  each  Town  a 
free  communication  of  their  sentiments 
on  this  Subject." 

This  was  the  Committee  of  Correspond- 
ence from  which  grew  the  union  of  the 
Colonies  and  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States.  It  is  a  pretty  well  attested  fact 
that  the  first  suggestion  of  the  Philadel- 
phia Congress  came  from  Samuel  Adams, 
and  the  chief  work  of  bringing  it  about 
was  also  his. 

It  was  well  known  to  the  British  Gov- 
ernment who  the  chief  agitator  was,  and 
when  General  Gage  arrived  in  Boston  in 
May,  1774,  his  first  work  was  an  attempt 
to  buy  off  Samuel  Adams.  With  Adams 
out  of  the  way,  England  might  have 
adopted  a  policy  of  conciliation  and  kept 
America  for  her  very  own — yes,  to  the 
point  of  moving  the  home  government 
here  and  saving  the  snug  little  island 
as  a  colony,  for  both  in  wealth  and 
population  America  has  now  far  sur- 
passed England. 

But    Adams    was  not    for  sale.      His 
I2y 


Samuel  B&ams 


reply  to  Gage  sounds  like  a  scrap  from 
Cromwell:  "I  trust  I  have  long  since 
made  my  peace  with  the  King  of  Kings. 
No  personal  consideration  shall  induce 
me  to  abandon  the  Righteous  Cause  of 
my  Country.     .     .     ." 

Gage  having  refused  to  recognize  the 
thirteen  Counsellors  appointed  by  the 
people,  the  General  Court  of  Massachu- 
setts, in  secret  session,  appointed  five 
delegates  to  attend  the  Congress  of  Colo- 
nies at  Philadelphia.  Of  course  Samuel 
Adams  was  one  of  these  delegates  ;  and 
to  John  Adams,  another  delegate,  are  we 
indebted  for  a  minute  description  of  that 
most  momentous  meeting. 

A  room  in  the  State  House  had  been 
offered  the  delegates,  but  with  commend- 
able modesty  they  accepted  the  offer  of 
the  Carpenters'  Company  to  use  their 
hall. 

And  so  there  they    convened  on  the 

fifth  day  of  September,  1774,  having  met 

by  appointment  and  walked  over  from  the 

City  Tavern  in  a  body.    Forty-four  men 

130 


SAMUEL  ADAMS. 


Samuel  aoams 


were  present,  not  a  large  gathering — but 
they  had  come  hundreds  of  miles,  and 
several  of  them  had  been  months  on  the 
journey. 

They  were  a  sturdy  lot ;  and  madam  !  I 
think  it  would  have  been  worth  while  to 
have  looked  in  upon  them.  There  were 
several  coon-skin  caps  in  evidence  ;  also 
lace  and  frills  and  velvet  brought  from 
England — but  plainness  to  severity  was 
the  rule.  Few  of  these  men  had  ever 
been  away  from  their  own  colonies  be- 
fore, few  had  ever  met  any  members  of 
the  Congress  save  their  own  colleagues. 
They  represented  civilizations  of  very  dif- 
ferent degrees.  Each  stood  a  bit  in  awe 
of  all  the  rest.  Several  of  the  colonies 
had  been  in  conflict  with  others. 

Meeting  new  men  in  those  days,  when 
even  the  stage-coach  was  a  passing  show 
worth  going  miles  to  see,  was  an  event. 
There  was  awkwardness  and  nervous- 
ness on  the  swarthy  faces  ;  firm  mouths 
twitched  and  big,  bony  hands  sought  for 
places  of  concealment. 
131 


Samuel  BDamiJ 


The  meeting  had  been  called  for  Sep- 
tember 1st,  but  was  postponed  for  five 
days  awaiting  the  arrival  of  belated  dele- 
gates who  had  been  detained  by  floods. 
Even  then  delegates  from  North  Carolina 
had  not  arrived,  and  Georgia  not  having 
thought  it  worth  while  to  send  any,  eleven 
colonies  only  were  represented.  Each 
delegation  naturally  kept  together,  as 
men  will  who  have  a  fighting  history  and 
pioneer  ancestry. 

It  was  a  serious,  solemn  business  and 
these  men  were  not  given  to  levity  in  any 
event.  When  they  were  seated  there  was 
a  moment  of  silence  so  dense  it  could  be 
heard.  Every  chance  movement  of  a 
foot  on  the  uncarpeted  floor  sent  an  echo 
through  the  room. 

The  stillness  was  first  broken  by  Mr. 
Lynch,  of  South  Carolina,  who  arose  and 
in  a  low,  clear  voice  said,  "There  is  a 
gentleman  present  who  has  presided  with 
great  dignity  over  a  very  respectable  body 
and  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  America. 
Gentleman,  I  move  that  the  Honorable 
132 


Samuel  BDams 


Peyton  Randolph,  one  of  the  delegates 
from  Virginia,  be  appointed  to  preside 
over  this  meeting.  I  doubt  not  it  will  be 
unanimous." 

It  was  so,  and  a  large  man  in  powdered 
wig  and  scarlet  coat  arose,  and,  carrying 
his  gold-headed  cane  before  him  like  a 
mace,  walked  to  the  platform  without 
apology. 

The  New  Englanders  in  homespun 
looked  at  each  other  with  trepidation  on 
their  features.  The  red  coat  was  not  as- 
suring, but  they  kept  their  peace  and 
breathed  hard,  praying  that  the  enemy 
had  not  captured  the  convention  through 
strategy.  Mr.  Randolph's  first  suggestion 
was  not  revolutionary  ;  it  was  that  a 
secretary  be  appointed. 

Again  Mr.  L,ynch  arose  and  named 
Charles  Thomson,  "  a  gentleman  of  fam- 
ily, fortune,  and  character."  This  testi- 
monial of  family  and  fortune  was  not 
assuring  to  the  plain  Massachusetts  men, 
but  they  said  nothing  and  awaited  devel- 
opments. 

133 


Samuel  BDanis 


All  were  cautious  as  woodsmen,  and 
the  motion  that  the  Council  be  held  be- 
hind closed  doors  was  adopted.  Every 
member  then  held  up  his  right  hand  and 
made  a  solemn  promise  to  divulge  no 
part  of  the  transactions  ;  and  Galloway, 
of  Pennsylvania,  promised  with  the  rest, 
and  straightway  each  night  informed  the 
enemy  of  every  move. 

Little  was  done  that  first  day  but  get 
acquainted  by  talking  very  cautiously  and 
very  politely.  The  next  day  a  notable 
member  had  arrived,  and  in  a  front  seat 
sat  Richard  Henry  L,ee,  a  man  you  would 
turn  and  look  at  in  any  company .  Slender 
and  dark,  with  a  brilliant  eye  and  a  profile 
— and  only  one  man  in  ten  thousand  has 
a  profile — Lee  was  a  gracious  presence. 
His  voice  was  gentle  and  flexible  and  lur- 
ing, and  there  was  a  dignity  and  poise  in 
his  manner  that  made  him  easily  the 
foremost  orator  of  his  time. 

Near  him   sat  William   Livingston,  of 
New  Jersey,  and  John  Jay,  his  son-in-law, 
the  youngest  man  in  the  Congress,  with 
134 


Samuel  BDams 


a  nose  that  denoted  character,  and  all  ot 
his  fame  in  the  future. 

The  Pennsylvanians  were  all  together, 
grouped  on  one  side.  Duaue,  of  New 
York,  sat  near  them,  "  shy  and  squint- 
eyed,  very  sensible  and  very  artful," 
wrote  John  Adams  that  night  in  his  diary. 

Then  over  there  sat  Christopher  Gads- 
den, of  South  Carolina,  who  had  preached 
independence  for  full  ten  years  before 
this,  and  who,  when  he  heard  that  the 
British  soldiers  had  taken  Boston,  pro- 
posed to  raise  a  troop  at  once  and  fight 
red-coats  wherever  found. 

"  But  the  British  will  burn  your  seaport 
towns  if  we  antagonize  them,"  some  timid 
soul  explained. 

"Our  towns  are  built  of  brick  and 
wood  ;  if  they  are  burned  we  can  rebuild 
them  ;  but  liberty  once  gone  is  gone  for- 
ever," he  retorted.  And  the  saying 
sounds  well  even  if  it  will  not  stand 
analysis. 

Back  near  the  wall  was  a  man  who, 
when   the    assembly   stood   at    morning 
135 


Samuel  BDams 


prayers,  showed  a  half-head  above  his 
neighbors.  His  face  was  broad  and  he, 
too,  had  a  profile.  His  mouth  was 
tightly  closed  and  during  the  first  four- 
teen days  of  that  Congress  he  never 
opened  it  to  utter  a  word,  and  after  his 
long  quiet  he  broke  the  silence  by 
saying,  "  Mr.  President,  I  second  the 
motion."  Once  in  a  passionate  speech 
Lynch  turned  to  him  and  pointing  his 
finger  said  :  "  There  is  a  man  who  has 
not  spoken  here,  but  in  the  Virginia 
Assembly  he  made  the  most  eloquent 
speech  I  ever  heard.  He  said,  '  I  will 
raise  a  thousand  men,  and  arm  and  sub- 
sist them  at  my  expense  and  march  them 
to  the  relief  of  Boston.'  "  And  then  did 
the  tall  man,  whose  name  was  George 
Washington,  blush  like  a  school-girl. 

But  in  all  that  company  the  men  most 
noticed  were  the  five  members  from  Mas- 
sachusetts. They  were  Bowdoin,  Samuel 
Adams,  John  Adams,  Gushing,  and  Robert 
Treat  Paine.  Massachusetts  had  thus  far 
taken  the  lead  in  the  struggle  with  Eng- 
136 


Samuel  BDanis 


laud.  A  British  army  was  encamped  upon 
her  soil,  her  chief  city  besieged  —  the 
port  closed.  Her  sufferings  had  called 
this  Congress  into  being,  and  to  her 
delegates  the  members  had  come  to  listen. 
All  recognized  Samuel  Adams  as  the 
chief  man  of  the  Convention.  His  hand 
wrote  the  invitations  and  earnest  re- 
quests to  come.  Galloway,  writing  to 
his  frieuds,  the  enemy,  said,  "Samuel 
Adams  eats  little,  drinks  little,  sleeps 
little  and  thinks  much.  He  is  most 
decisive  and  indefatigable  in  the  pursuit 
of  his  object.  He  is  the  man  who,  by 
his  superior  application,  manages  at  once 
the  faction  in  Philadelphia  and  the  fac- 
tions of  New  England." 

Yet  Samuel  Adams  talked  little  at  the 
Convention.  He  allowed  John  Adams  to 
state  the  case  but  sat  next  to  him  supply- 
ing memoranda,  occasionally  arising  to 
make  remarks  or  explanations  in  a  purely 
conversational  tone.  But  so  earnest  and 
impressive  was  his  manner,  so  ably  did 
he  answer  every  argument  and  reply  to 
137 


Samuel  BDams 


every  objection,  that  be  thorougbly  con- 
vinced a  tall,  angular,  bomely  man  by  the 
name  of  Patrick  Henry  of  the  righteous- 
ness of  his  cause.  Patrick  Henry  was 
pretty  thoroughly  convinced  before,  but 
the  recital  of  Boston's  case  fired  the  Vir- 
ginian and  he  made  the  first  and  only 
real  speech  of  the  Congress.  In  burning 
words  he  pictured  all  the  colonies  had 
suffered  and  endured,  and  by  his  match- 
less eloquence  told  in  prophetic  words 
of  the  glories  yet  to  be.  In  his  speech 
he  paid  just  tribute  to  the  genius  of 
Samuel  Adams,  declaring  that  the  good 
that  was  to  come  from  this  "  first  of  an 
unending  succession  of  Congresses"  was 
owing  to  the  work  of  Adams.  And  in  after 
years  Adams  repaid  the  compliment  by 
saying  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
cementing  power  of  Patrick  Henry's 
eloquence  that  first  Congress  probably 
would  have  ended  in  futile  wrangle. 

The  South  regarded,  in  great  degree, 
the   fight   in    Boston    as    Massachusetts' 
own.     To  make  the  entire  thirteen  col- 
138 


Samuel  BOaius 


ouies  adopt  the  quarrel  and  back  the 
Colouial  army  in  the  vicinity  of  Boston 
\Yas  the  only  way  to  make  the  issue  a 
success,  and  to  unite  the  factions  by 
choosing  for  a  leader  a  Virginian  aristo- 
crat was  a  crowning  stroke  of  diplomacy. 

John  Haucock  had  succeeded  Ran- 
dolph as  president  of  the  second  Con- 
gress and  Virginia  was  inclined  to  be 
lukewarm,  when  John  Adams  in  an  im- 
passioned speech  nominated  Colonel 
George  Washington  as  Commander-in- 
Chief  of  the  Continental  army.  The 
nomination  was  seconded  very  quietly 
by  Samuel  Adams.  It  was  a  vote,  and 
the  South  was  committed  to  the  cause  of 
backing  up  Washington,  and,  incident- 
ally, New  England.  The  entire  plan 
was  probably  the  work  of  Samuel  Adams, 
yet  he  gave  the  credit  to  John,  while  the 
credit  of  stoutly  opposing  it  goes  to  John 
Hancock,  who,  being  presiding  officer, 
worked  at  a  disadvantage. 

But  Adams  had  a  way  of  reducing  oppo- 
sition to  the  minimum.  He  kept  out  of 
139 


Samuel  BDams 


sight  and  furthered  his  ends  by  pushing 
this  man  or  that  to  the  front  at  the  right 
time  to  make  the  plea.  He  was  a  master 
in  that  fine  art  of  managing  men  and 
never  letting  them  know  they  are  man- 
aged. By  keeping  behind  the  arras  he 
accomplished  purposes  that  a  leader 
never  can  who  allows  his  personality  to 
be  in  continual  evidence,  for  personality 
repels  as  well  as  attracts,  and  the  man 
too  much  before  the  public  is  sure  to  be 
undone  eventually.  Adams  knew  that 
the  power  of  Pericles  lay  largely  in  the 
fact  that  he  was  never  seen  upon  but  a 
single  street  of  Athens,  and  that  but 
once  a  year. 

The  complete  writings  of  Adams  have 
recently  been  collected  and  published. 
One  marvels  that  such  valuable  material 
has  not  before  been  printed  and  given 
to  the  public,  for  the  literary  style  and 
perspicuity  shown  are  most  inspiring,  and 
the  value  of  the  data  cannot  be  gainsaid. 

No  one  ever  accused  Adams  of  being  a 
muddy  thinker ;  you  grant  his  premises 
140 


Samuel  BOains 


and  you  are  bound  to  accept  his  conclu. 
sions.     He  leaves  no  loopholes  for  escape. 

The  following  words,  used  by  Chatham, 
refer  to  documents  of  which  Adams  took 
a  prominent  part  in  preparing  :  "  When 
your  Lordships  look  at  the  papers  trans- 
mitted us  from  America,  when  you  con- 
sider their  decency,  firmness,  and  wisdom, 
you  cannot  but  respect  their  cause  and 
wish  to  make  it  your  own.  For  myself, 
I  must  avow  that,  in  all  my  reading — and 
I  have  read  Thucydides  and  have  studied 
and  admired  the  master  statesmen  of  the 
world — for  solidity  of  reason,  force  of 
sagacity,  and  wisdom  of  conclusion  under 
a  complication  of  difficult  circumstances, 
no  body  of  men  can  stand  in  preference 
to  the  general  Congress  of  Philadelphia. 
The  histories  of  Greece  and  Rome  give  us 
nothing  like  it  and  all  attempts  to  impress 
servitude  on  such  a  mighty  continental 
people  must  be  in  vain.     .     .     ." 

In  the  life  of  Adams  there  was  no  soft 
sentiment  nor  romantic  vagaries.  "He 
is  a  Puritan  in  all  the  word  implies,  and 
141 


Samuel  BDams 


the  unbending  fanatic  of  independence," 
wrote  Gage,  and  the  description  fits. 

He  was  twice  married.  Our  knowledge 
of  his  first  wife  is  very  slight,  but  his 
second  wife,  Elizabeth  Wells,  daughter 
of  an  English  merchant,  was  a  capable 
woman  of  brave,  good  sense.  She  adopted 
her  husband's  political  views  and  with 
true  womanly  devotion  let  her  old  kins- 
men slide  ;  and  during  the  dark  hours  of 
the  war  bore  deprivation  without  repin- 
ing. 

Adams'  home  life  was  simple  to  the 
verge  of  hardship.  All  through  life  he 
was  on  the  ragged  edge  financially,  and 
in  his  latter  years  he  was  for  the  first  time 
relieved  from  pressing  obligations  by  an 
afiiicting  event— the  death  of  his  only 
son,  who  was  a  surgeon  in  Washington's 
army.  The  money  paid  to  the  sou  by  the 
Government  for  his  services  gave  the 
father  the  only  financial  competency  he 
ever  knew.  Two  daughters  survived  him, 
but  with  him  died  the  name. 

John  Adams  survived  Samuel  for 
142 


Samuel  a^ams 


twenty-three  years.  He  lived  to  see 
"  the  great  American  experiment,"  as 
Mr.  Ruskin  has  been  pleased  to  call  our 
country,  on  a  firm  basis,  constantly  grow- 
ing stronger  and  stronger.  He  lived  to 
realize  that  the  sanguine  prophecies  made 
by  Samuel  were  working  themselves  out 
in  very  truth. 

The  grave  of  Samuel  Adams  is  viewed 
by  more  people  than  that  of  any  other 
American  patriot.  In  the  old  Granary 
Burying  Ground,  in  the  very  centre  of 
Boston,  on  Tremont  Street,  there  where 
travel  congests,  and  two  living  streams 
meet  all  day  long,  you  look  through  the 
iron  fence,  so  slender  that  it  scarce  im- 
pedes the  view,  and  not  twenty  feet  from 
the  curb  is  a  simple  metal  disc  set  on  an 
iron  rod  driven  into  the  ground  and  on  it 
this  inscription  :  "  This  marks  the  grave 
of  Samuel  Adams." 

For   many   years  the  grave    was    un- 
marked, and  the  disc  that  now  denotes  it 
was  only  recently  placed  in  position  by 
the   Sons  of   the  Revolution.      But  the 
143 


Samuel  BDams 


place  of  Samuel  Adams  on  the  pages  of 
history  is  secure.  Upon  the  times  in 
which  he  lived  he  exercised  a  profound 
influence.  And  he  who  influences  the 
times  in  which  he  lives  has  influenced  all 
the  times  that  come  after  ;  he  has  left  his 
impress  on  eternity. 


144 


JOHN  HANCOCK 


145 


Boston,  Sept.  30,  1765. 
Gent: 

Since  my  last  I  have  receiv'd  your  favour  by 
Capt  Hulme  who  is  arriv'd  here  vyith  the  most 
disagreeable  Commodity  (say  Stamps)  that  were 
imported  into  this  Country  &  what  if  carry'd 
into  Execution  will  entirely  Stagnate  Trade  here, 
for  it  is  universally  determined  here  never  to 
Submitt  to  it  and  the  principal  merchts  here 
will  by  no  means  carry  on  Business  under  a 
Stamp,  we  are  in  the  utmost  Confusion  here  and 
shall  be  more  so  after  the  first  of  November  & 
nothing  but  the  repeal  of  the  act  will  righten, 
the  Consequence  of  its  taking  place  here  will  be 
bad,  &  attended  with  many  troubles,  &  I  believe 
may  say  more  fatal  to  you  than  us.  I  dread  the 
'By^nt.— Extract  from  Hancock's  Letter-Book. 


146 


^^^^^.^s^. 


JOHN   HANCOCK. 


I. 

LONG  years  ago  when  society  was 
young,  learning  was  centred  in 
one  man  itl  each  community,  and 
that  man  was  the  priest.  It  was  the 
priest  who  was  sent  for  in  every  emer- 
gency of  life.  He  taught  the  young, 
prescribed  for  the  sick,  advised  those 
who  were  in  trouble,  aud  when  human 
help  was  vain  and  man  had  done  his  all, 
this  priest  knelt  at  the  bedside  of  the 
dying  and  invoked  a  Power  with  whom  it 
was  believed  he  had  influence. 

The  so-called   learned   professions  are 

only  another  example  of  the  Division  of 

Labor.     We  usually  say  there  are  three 

learned    professions  :     Theology,    Medi- 

147 


5obn  Ibancocft 


cine,  and  Law.  As  to  which  is  the 
greater  is  a  much-mooted  question  and 
has  caused  too  many  family  feuds  for  me 
to  attempt  to  decide  it.  And  so  I  evade 
the  issue  and  say  there  is  a  fourth  pro- 
fession, that  is  only  allowed  to  be  called 
so  by  grace,  but  which  in  my  mind  is 
greater  than  them  all — the  profession  of 
Teacher.  I  can  conceive  of  a  condition 
of  society  so  high  and  excellent  that  it 
has  no  use  for  either  doctor,  lawyer,  or 
preacher,  but  the  teacher  would  still  be 
needed.  Ignorance  and  sin  supply  the 
three  "  learned  professions  "  their  excuse 
for  being,  but  the  teacher's  work  is  to 
develop  the  germ  of  wisdom  that  is  in 
every  soul. 

And  now  each  of  these  professions  has 
divided  up,  like  monads,  into  manj-  heads. 
In  medicine  we  have  as  many  specialists 
as  there  are  organs  of  the  body.  The 
lawyer  who  advises  you  in  a  copyright  or 
patent  cause  knows  nothing  about  ad- 
miralty ;  and  as  they  tell  us  a  man  who 
pleads  his  own  case  has  a  fool  for  a  client, 
148 


5obn  Ibancocl^ 


so  does  the  insurance  lawyer  who  is 
retained  to  foreclose  a  mortgage.  In  all 
prosperous  city  churches  the  preacher 
who  attracts  the  crowd  in  the  morning 
allows  a  'prentice  to  preach  to  the  young 
folks  in  the  evening  ;  he  does  not  make 
pastoral  calls  ;  and  the  curate  who  reads 
the  service  at  funerals  is  never  called 
upon  to  perform  a  marriage  ceremony 
except  in  a  case  of  charity.  Likewise  the 
teacher's  profession  has  its  specialists  : 
the  man  who  teaches  Greek  well  cannot 
write  good  English,  and  the  man  who 
teaches  composition  is  baffled  and  per- 
plexed by  long  division  ;  and  the  teacher 
who  delights  in  trigonometry,  pooh- 
poohs  a  kindergartner. 

Just  where  this  evolutionary  dividing 
and  subdividing  ofsocial  cells  will  land  the 
race  no  man  can  say  ;  but  that  a  specialist 
is  a  dangerous  man,  is  sure.  He  is  a  buzz- 
saw  with  which  wise  men  never  monkey. 
A  surgeon  who  has  operated  for  appendi- 
citis five  times  successfully  is  above  all 
to  be  avoided.  I  once  knew  a  man  with 
149 


Jobn  Ibancocf? 


lung  trouble  who  inadvertently  strayed 
into  an  oculist's,  and  was  looked  over 
and  sent  away  witli  an  order  on  an  opti- 
cian. And  should  you  through  error 
stray  into  the  oflBce  of  a  nose  aud  throat 
specialist,  aud  ask  him  to  treat  you  for 
varicose  veins,  he  would  probably  do  so 
by  nasal  douche. 

Even  now  a  specialist  iu  theology  will 
lead  us,  if  he  cau,  a  merry  ignis  fatiius 
chase  and  laud  us  iu  a  morass.  The  only 
thiug  that  saved  the  priest  in  days  agone 
was  the  fact  that  he  had  so  mauy  duties  to 
perform  that  he  exercised  all  of  his 
mental  muscles,  aud  thus  attained  a 
degree  -of  all-roundness  which  is  not 
possible  to  the  specialist.  Eveu  then 
there  were  not  lacking  men  who  found 
time  to  devote  to  specialties :  Bishop 
Georgius  Ambrosius,  for  instance,  who  in 
the  Fifteenth  Century  produced  a  learned 
work  proving  that  women  have  no  souls. 
And  a  like  book  was  written  at  Nashville, 
Tennessee,  in  1S59,  ])y  Rev.  Hubert  Par- 
sons of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
150 


Jobn  "Ibancoch 


(South),  showing  that  negroes  were  in  a 
like  predicament.  But  a  more  uotalile 
instance  of  the  danger  of  a  specialty  is 
Rev.  Cotton  Mather,  who  investigated  the 
subject  of  witchcraft  and  issued  a  modest 
brochure  incorporating  his  views  on  the 
subject.  He  succeeded  in  convincing  at 
least  one  man  of  its  verity,  and  that  man 
was  himself,  and  thus  immortality  was 
given  to  the  town  of  Salem,  which, 
otherwise,  would  have  no  claim  on  us 
for  remembrance,  save  that  Hawthorne 
was  once  a  clerk  in  its  custom-house. 

A  very  slight  study  of  Colonial  history 
will  show  any  student  that,  for  two  cen- 
turies, the  ministers  in  New  England  oc- 
cupied very  much  the  same  position  in 
society  that  the  priest  did  during  the 
Middle  Ages.  As  the  monks  kept  learn- 
ing from  dying  oif  the  face  of  earth,  so 
did  the  ministers  of  the  New  World  pre- 
serve culture  from  passing  into  forgetful- 
ness.  "Very  seldom,  indeed,  were  books 
to  be  found  in  a  community  except  at  the 
minister's.  And  during  the  Seventeenth 
151 


^obn  Ibancocft 


Century,  and  well  into  the  Eighteenth,  he 
combined  in  himself  the  offices  of  doctor, 
lawyer,  preacher,  and  teacher.  Mr.  Low- 
ell has  said,  "  I  cannot  remember  when 
there  was  not  one  or  more  students  in  my 
father's  household,  and  others  still  who 
came  at  regular  intervals  to  recite.  And 
this  was  the  usual  custom.  It  was  the 
minister  who  fitted  boys  for  college,  and 
no  youth  was  ever  sent  away  to  school 
until  he  had  been  well  drilled  by  the 
local  clergyman." 

And  it  must  further  be  noted,  that 
genealogical  tables  show  that  ver}'-  nearly 
all  of  the  eminent  men  of  New  England 
were  .sons  of  ministers,  or  of  an  ancestry 
where  ministers'  names  are  seen  at  fre- 
quent intervals. 

As  an  intellectual  and  moral  force  the 
minister  has  now  but  a  rtuliment  of  the 
power  he  once  exercised.  The  tendency 
to  specialize  all  art  and  all  knowledge 
has  to  a  degree  shorn  him  of  his  strength. 
And  to  such  an  extent  is  this  true,  that 
within  forty  years  it  has  passed  into  a 
152 


Jobn  Ibancock 


common  proverb  that  the  sons  of  cler- 
gymen are  rascals,  whereas  in  Colonial 
days  the  highest  recommendation  a  yonth 
could  carry  was  that  he  was  the  son  of  a 
minister. 

The  Rev.  John  Hancock,  grandfather 
of  John  Hancock,  the  patriot,  was  for 
more  than  half  a  century  the  minister  of 
Lexington,  Massachusetts.  I  say  "the 
minister,"  because  there  was  only  one : 
the  keen  competition  of  sect  that  estab- 
lishes half  a  dozen  preachers  in  a  small 
community  is  a  very  modern  innovation. 

John  Hancock,  "  Bishop  of  Lexington," 
was  a  man  of  pronounced  personality,  as  is 
plainly  seen  in  his  portrait  in  the  Boston 
Museum  of  Fine  Arts.  They  say  he  ruled 
the  town  with  a  rod  of  iron  ;  and  when  the 
young  men,  who  adorned  the  front  steps 
of  the  meeting-house  during  service,  grew 
disorderly,  he  stopped  in  his  prayer,  and 
going  outside  soundly  cuffed  the  ears  of 
the  first  delinquent  he  could  lay  hands 
upon.  In  his  clay  there  was  a  dash  of 
facetiousness  that  saved  him  from  excess, 
153 


5obn  Ibancoch 


supplying  a  useful  check  to  his  zeal — for 
zeal  uncurbed  is  very  bad.  He  was  a  -wise 
and  beneficent  dictator  ;  and  government 
under  such  a  one  cannot  be  improved 
upon.  His  manner  was  gracious,  frank, 
and  open,  and  such  was  the  specific  grav- 
ity of  his  nature,  that  his  words  carried 
weight,  and  his  wish  was  sufiicient. 

The  house  where  this  fine  old  autocrat 
lived  and  reigned  is  standing  in  Lexing- 
ton now.  When  you  walk  out  through 
Cambridge  and  Arlington  on  your  way 
to  Concord,  following  the  road  the  Brit- 
ish took  on  their  way  out  to  Concord, 
you  will  pass  by  it.  It  is  a  good  place  to 
stop  and  rest.  You  will  know  the  place 
bv  the  tablet  in  front,  on  which  is  the 
legend  :  "Here  John  Hancock  and  Sam- 
uel Adams  were  sleeping  on  the  night  of 
the  iSth  of  April,  1775,  when  aroused  by 
Paul  Revere." 

The  Rev.  Jonas  Clark  owned  the  house 

after  the  Rev.  John  Hancock,  and   the 

ministries  of  those  two   men,  and  their 

occupancy  of  the  house,  cover  one  hun- 

154 


3obn  Ibancock 


dred  years  and  five  years  more.  Here 
the  thirteen  children  of  Jonas  Clark  were 
born,  and  all  lived  to  be  old  men  and 
women.  When  you  call  there  I  hope 
you  will  be  treated  with  the  same  gentle 
courtesy  that  I  met.  If  you  delay  not  your 
visit  too  long  you  will  see  a  fine  moth- 
erly woman,  with  white  "sausage  curls  " 
and  a  high  back-comb,  wearing  a  check 
dress  and  felt  slippers,  and  she  will  tell 
you  that  she  is  over  eighty,  and  that  when 
her  mother  was  a  little  girl  she  once  sat 
on  Governor  Hancock's  knee  and  he 
showed  her  the  works  in  his  watch. 

And  then  as  you  go  away  you  will 
think  again  of  what  the  old  lady  has  just 
told  you,  and  as  you  look  back  for  a  part- 
ing glance  at  the  house,  standing  firm 
and  solemn  in  its  rusty-gray  dignity,  you 
will  doff  your  hat  to  it,  and  mayhap 
murmur :  The  days  of  man  on  earth — 
they  are  but  as  a  passing  shadow  ! 

"  Here  John  Hancock  and  Samuel 
Adims  were  sleeping  when  aroused  by 
Paul  Revere  "  !  Merchant-prince  and  agi- 
155 


5obn  Ibancocft 


tator,  horse  and  rider — where  are  you 
now?  And  is  your  sleep  disturbed  by 
dreams  of  British  red-coats,  or  hissing 
flint-locks?  Phantom  British  warships 
may  lie  at  their  moorings,  swinging  wide 
on  the  unforgetting  tide,  lanterns  may 
hang  high  in  the  belfry  of  the  Old  North 
Church  tower,  hurried  knocks  and  calls 
of  defiance  and  hoof-beats  of  fast- gallop- 
ing steed  may  echo,  borne  on  the  night- 
wind  of  the  Past,  but  you  heed  them  not ! 


156 


II. 

THE  Rev.  John  Hancock  of  Lexing- 
ton had  two  sons.    John  Hancock 
number  two  became  pastor  of  the 
church  at  the  North  Precinct  of  the  town 
of  Braintree,  which  afterwards  was  to  be 
the  town  of  Quincy. 

The  nearest  neighbor  to  the  village 
preacher  was  John  Adams,  shoemaker 
and  farmer.  Each  Sunday  in  the  amen 
corner  of  the  Rev.  John  Hancock's  meet- 
ing-house, was  mustered  the  well-washed 
and  combed  brood  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Adams.  Now  this  John  Adams  bad  a  son 
whom  Rev.  John  Hancock  baptized,  also 
named  John,  two  years  older  than  John 
the  son  of  the  preacher.  And  young 
John  Adams  and  John  Hancock  number 
three  used  to  fish  and  swim  together, 
and  go  nutting,  and  set  traps  for  squirrels, 
157 


Jobn  Ibancock 


and  help  each  other  in  fractions.  And 
then  they  would  climb  trees,  and  wrestle, 
and  sometimes  fight.  lu  the  fights,  they 
say,  John  Hancock  used  to  get  the  better 
of  his  antagonist,  but  as  an  exploiter  of 
fractions  John  Adams  was  more  than  his 
equal. 

The  parents  of  John  Adams  were  in- 
dustrious and  savin'— the  little  farm  pros- 
pered, for  Boston  supplied  a  goodly 
market,  and  weekly  trips  were  made  there 
in  a  one-horse  cart,  often  piloted  by  young 
John  with  the  minister's  boy  for  ballast. 
The  Adams  family  had  ambitions  for 
their  son  John — he  was  to  go  to  Harvard 
and  be  educated,  and  be  a  minister  and 
preach  at  Braintree,  or  Weymouth,  or 
perhaps  even   Boston  ! 

In  the  meantime  the  Rev.  John  Han- 
cock had  died,  and  the  widowed  mother 
was  not  able  to  give  her  boy  a  college 
education — times  were  hard. 

But  the  lad's  uncle,  Thomas  Hancock, 
a  prosperous  merchant  of  Boston,  took 
quite  an  interest  in  young  John.  And 
15S 


Jobn  Ibancock 


it  occvirred  to  him  to  adopt  the  fatherless 
boy,  legally,  as  his  own.  The  mother 
demurred,  but  after  some  months  decided 
that  it  was  best  so,  for  when  twenty-one 
he  would  be  her  boy  just  as  much  and  as 
truly  as  if  his  uncle  had  not  adopted  him. 
And  so  the  rich  uncle  took  him,  and 
rigged  him  out  with  a  deal  finer  clothing 
than  he  had  ever  before  worn,  and  sent 
him  to  the  Latin  School  and  afterward 
over  to  Cambridge,  with  silver  jingling  in 
his  pocket. 

Prosperity  is  a  severe  handicap  to 
youth  ;  not  very  many  grown  men  can 
stand  it ;  but  beyond  a  needless  display 
of  velvet  coats  and  frilled  shirts,  the 
young  man  stood  the  test,  and  got  through 
Harvard.  In  point  of  scholarship  he  did 
not  stand  so  high  as  John  Adams  ;  and 
between  the  lads  there  grew  a  small  but 
well-defined  gulf,  as  is  but  natural  between 
homespun  and  broadcloth.  Still  the 
gulf  was  not  impassable,  for  over  it 
friendly  favors  were  occasionally  passed. 

John  Hancock's  mother  wanted  him  to 
159 


Jobn  "DDancoch 


be  a  preacher,  but  Uncle  Thotaas  would 
not  listen  to  it — the  youth  must  be  taught 
to  be  a  merchant,  so  he  could  be  the 
ready  helper  and  then  the  successor  of 
his  foster-father. 

Graduating  at  the  early  age  of  seven- 
teen, John  Hancock  at  once  went  to 
work  in  his  uncle's  counting-house  in 
Boston.  He  was  a  fine,  tall  fellow  with 
dash  and  spirit,  and  seemed  to  show 
considerable  aptitude  for  the  work.  The 
business  prospered,  and  Uncle  Thomas 
was  very  proud  of  his  handsome  ward  who 
was  qiiite  in  demand  at  parties  and  balls 
and  in  a  general  social  way,  while  the 
uncle  could  not  dance  a  minuet  to  save 
him. 

Not  needing  the  young  man  very  badly 
around  the  store,  the  uncle  sent  him  to 
Europe  to  complete  his  education  by 
travel.  He  went  with  the  retiring  Gover- 
nor Pownal,  whose  taste  for  social  enjoy- 
ment was  very  much  in  accord  with  his 
own.  In  England  he  attended  the  funeral 
of  George  II.,  and  saw  the  coronation 
1 60 


^obn  Ibancock 


of  George  III.,  little  thinking  the  while 
that  he  would  some  day  make  violent 
eflForts  to  snatch  from  that  crown  its 
brightest  jewel. 

When  young  Hancock  was  twenty- 
seven  the  uncle  died,  and  left  to  him  his 
entire  fortune  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars.  It  made  him  one  of 
the  very  richest  men  in  the  colony — 
for  at  that  time  there  was  not  a  man  in 
Massachusetts  worth  half  a  million 
dollars. 

The  jingling  silver  in  his  pocket  when 
sent  to  Harvard  had  severely  tested  his 
moral  fibre,  but  this  great  fortune  came 
near  smothering  all  his  native  common- 
sense.  If  a  man  makes  his  money  him- 
self he  stands  a  certain  chance  of  growing 
as  the  pile  grows.  There  is  a  little  doubt 
as  to  the  soundness  of  Emerson's  epi- 
gram, that  what  you  put  into  his  chest 
you  take  out  of  the  man.  More  than 
this,  when  a  man  gradually  accumulates 
wealth,  it  attracts  little  attention,  so  the 
mob  that  follows  the  newly  rich  never 
i6i 


^obti  Ibancock 


really  get  onto  the  sceut.  And  besides 
that  the  man  who  makes  his  own  fortune 
always  stands  ready  to  repel  boarders. 

There  may  be  young  men  of  twenty- 
seven  who  are  men  grown,  and  no  doubt 
every  man  of  twenty-seven  is  very  sure 
that  he  is  one  of  these  ;  but  the  thought 
that  man  is  mortal  never  occurs  to  either 
men  or  women  until  they  are  past  thirty. 
The  blood  is  warm,  conquest  lies  before, 
and  to  seize  the  world  by  the  tail  and 
snap  its  head  off  seems  both  easy  and 
desirable. 

The  promoters,  the  flatterers,  and 
friends  until  then  unknown,  flocked  to 
Hancock  and  condoled  with  him  on  the 
death  of  his  uncle.  Some  wanted  small 
loans  to  tide  over  temporary  emergencies, 
others  had  business  ventures  in  hand 
whereby  John  Hancock  could  double  his 
wealth  very  shortly.  Still  others  spoke 
of  wealth  being  a  trust,  and  to  use  money 
to  help  your  fellow-men,  and  thus  secure 
the  gratitude  of  many,  was  the  proper 
thing. 

162 


Jobn  Ibancocft 


The  unselfishness  of  the  latter  sugges- 
tion appealed  to  Hancock.  To  be  the 
friend  of  humanity,  to  assist  others — this 
is  the  highest  ambition  to  which  a  man 
can  aspire !  And,  of  course,  if  one  is 
pointed  out  on  the  street  as  the  good 
Mr,  Hancock  it  cannot  be  helped.  It 
is  the  penalty  of  well-doing. 

So  in  order  to  give  work  to  many  and 
promote  the  interests  of  Boston,  a  thriv- 
ing city  of  fifteen  thousand  inhabitants, 
for  all  good  men  wish  to  build  up  the 
place  in  which  they  live,  John  Hancock 
was  induced  to  embark  in  ship-building. 
He  also  owned  several  ships  of  his  own 
which  traded  with  London  and  the  West 
Indies,  and  was  part  owner  of  others. 
But  he  publicly  explained  that  he  did  not 
care  to  make  money  for  himself — his  de- 
sire was  to  give  employment  to  the  worthy 
poor  and  enhance  the  good  of  Boston. 

The  aristocratic   company   of   militia, 

known  as  the    Governor's    Guard,    had 

been  fitted  out  with   new  uniforms  and 

arms  by  the  generous  Hancock,  and  he 

163 


3obn  Ibancoch 


had  been  chosen  commanding  ofiBcer, 
with  rank  of  Colonel.  He  drilled  with 
the  crack  company  and  studied  the  man- 
ual much  more  diligently  than  he  ever 
had  his  Bible. 

Hancock  lived  in  the  mansion,  in- 
herited from  his  uncle,  on  Beacon  Street, 
facing  the  Common.  There  was  a  chariot 
and  six  horses  for  state  occasions,  much 
fine  furniture  from  over  the  sea,  elegant 
clothes  that  the  Puritans  call  "gaudy 
apparel"  ;  and  at  the  dinners,  the  wine 
flowed  freely,  and  cards,  dancing,  and 
music  filled  many  a  night. 

The  Puritan  neighbors  were  shocked, 
and  held  up  their  hands  in  horror  to 
think  that  the  son  of  a  minister  should 
so  affront  the  staid  and  sober  customs  of 
his  ancestors.  Others  still  said,  "Why, 
that 's  what  a  rich  man  should  do, — spend 
his  money,  of  course  ;  Hancock  is  the 
benefactor  of  his  kind  ;  just  see  how 
man}'  people  he  employs  !" 

The  town  was  all  agog,  and  Hancock 
was  easily  Boston's  first  citizen,  but  in 
164 


s    « 


^obn  Ibancocfi 


his  time  of  prosperity  he  did  not  forget 
his  old  friends.  He  sent  for  them  to 
come  and  make  merry  with  him  ;  and 
among  the  first  in  his  good  offices  was 
John  Adams,  the  rising  young  lawyer  of 
Braintree. 

John  Adams  had  found  clients  scarce, 
and  those  he  had,  poor  pay,  but  when  he 
became  the  trusted  legal  adviser  of  John 
Hancock,  things  took  a  turn  and  pros- 
perity came  that  way.  The  wine  and 
cards  and  dinners  had  n't  much  attraction 
for  him,  but  still  there  were  no  conscien- 
tious scruples  in  the  way.  He  patted  John 
Hancock  on  the  back,  assured  him  that 
lie  was  the  people,  looked  after  his  inter- 
ests loyally,  and  extracted  goodly  fees  for 
services  performed. 

At  the  home  of  Adams  at  Braintree, 
Hancock  had  met  a  quiet,  taciturn  indi- 
vidual by  the  name  of  Samuel  Adams. 
This  man  he  had  long  known  in  a  casual 
way,  but  had  never  been  able  really  to 
make  his  acquaintance.  He  was  fifteen 
years  older  than  Hancock,  and  by  his 
165 


5obn  Ibancoc?; 


quiet   digtnity   and   self-possession   made 
quite  an  impressiou  on  the  young  man. 

So,  now  that  prosperitj'  had  smiled, 
Hancock  invited  him  to  his  house,  but 
the  quiet  mau  was  an  ascetic  and  neither 
played  cards,  drank  wine,  nor  danced, 
and  so  declined  with  thanks. 

But  not  long  after,  he  requested  a  small 
loan  from  the  merchant-prince,  and  asked 
it  as  though  it  were  his  right,  and  so  he 
got  it.  His  manner  was  in  such  opposi- 
tion to  the  flatterers  and  those  who 
crawled,  and  whined,  and  begged,  that 
Hancock  was  pleased  with  the  man. 
Samuel  Adams  had  declined  Hancock's 
social  favors,  and  yet,  in  asking  for  a  loan, 
showed  his  friendliness. 

Samuel  Adams  was  a  politician,  and 
had  long  taken  an  active  part  in  the  town- 
meetings.  In  fact,  to  get  a  measure 
through  it  was  well  to  have  Samuel  Ad- 
ams at  5'our  side.  He  was  clear-headed, 
astute,  and  knew  the  human  heart.  Yet 
he  talked  but  little,  and  the  convivial 
ways  of  the  small  politician  were  far  from 
i66 


5obn  Ibancock 


him  ;  but  in  the  fine  art  that  can  manage 
men  and  never  let  them  know  they  are 
managed  he  was  a  past-master.  Tucked 
in  his  sleeve,  no  doubt,  was  a  degree  of 
pride  in  his  power,  but  the  stoic  quality 
in  his  nature  never  allowed  him  to  break 
into  laughter  when  he  considered  how  he 
led  men  by  the  nose. 

In  Boston  and  its  vicinity  Samuel  Ad- 
ams was  not  highly  regarded,  and  outside 
of  Boston,  at  forty  years  of  age,  he  was 
positively  unknown.  The  neighbors  re- 
garded him  as  a  harmless  fanatic,  saue  on 
most  subjects,  but  possessed  of  a  buzzing 
bee  in  his  bonnet  to  the  effect  that  the 
Colonies  should  be  separated  from  their 
protector,  England.  Samuel  Adams  neg- 
lected his  business  and  kept  up  a  fusillade 
of  articles  in  the  newspapers,  on  vari- 
ous political  subjects,  and  men  who  do 
this  are  regarded  everywhere  as  "  queer." 
A  professional  newspaper-writer  never 
takes  his  calling  seriously — it  is  business. 
He  writes  to  please  his  employer,  or  if  he 
owns  the  paper  himself,  he  still  writes  to 
167 


Jobii  Dancock 


please  his  employer,  that  is  to  say,  the 
public.     Journalism,  thy  name  is  pander  ! 

The  man  who  comes  up  the  stairway 
furtively,  with  a  MvS.  he  wants  printed, 
is  in  dead  earnest ;  and  he  has  excited  the 
ridicule,  wrath,  or  pity  of  editors  for 
three  hundred  years.  Such  a  one  was 
Samuel  Adams.  His  wife  did  her  own 
work,  and  the  grocer  with  bills  in  his 
hand  often  grew  red  in  the  face  and 
knocked  in  vain. 

And  yet  the  keen  intellect  of  Samuel 
Adams  was  not  a  thing  to  smile  at.  Any 
one  who  stood  before  him,  face  to  face, 
felt  the  power  of  the  man,  and  acknowl- 
edged it  then  and  there  as  we  always  do 
when  we  stand  in  the  presence  of  a 
strong  individuality.  And  this  inward 
acknowledgment  of  worth  was  instinct- 
ively made  by  John  Hancock,  the  biggest 
man  in  all  Boston  town. 

John  Hancock  through  his  genial,  glow- 
ing personality,  and  his  lavish  spending 
of  money  was  very  popular.  He  was 
being  fed  on  flattery,  and  the  more  a  man 
i68 


Jobn  Ibancocft 


gets  of  flattery,  once  the  taste  is  acquired, 
the  more  he  craves.  It  is  like  the  mad 
thirst  for  liquor,  or  the  romeike  habit. 

John  Hancock  was  getting  attention, 
and  he  wanted  more.  He  had  been 
chosen  selectman  to  fill  the  place  his 
uncle  had  occupied,  and  when  Samuel 
Adams  incidentally  dropped  a  remark 
that  good  men  were  needed  in  the  Gen- 
eral Court,  John  Hancock  agreed  with 
him. 

He  was  named  for  the  office  and  with 
Samuel  Adams'  help  was  easily  elected. 

Not  long  after  this  the  sloop  Liberty 
was  seized  by  the  government  officials  for 
violation  of  the  revenue  laws.  The  craft 
was  owned  by  John  Hancock  and  had 
surreptitiously  landed  a  cargo  of  wine 
without  paying  duty. 

When  the  ship  of  Boston's  chief  citizen 
was  seized  by  the  bumptious,  gilt-braided 
British  officials,  there  was  a  merry  uproar. 
All  the  men  in  the  ship-yards  quit  work, 
and  the  Caulkers'  Club,  of  which  Samuel 
Adams  was  secretary,  passed  hot  resolu- 
169 


3obn  Ibancocft 


tions  and  revolutionary  preambles,  and 
eulogies  of  John  Hancock,  who  was  doing 
so  much  for  Boston. 

In  fact  there  was  a  riot,  and  three 
regiments  of  British  troops  were  ordered 
to  Boston. 

And  this  was  the  very  first  step  on  the 
part  of  England  to  enforce  her  authoritj', 
by  arms,  in  America. 

The  troops  were  in  the  town  to  preserve 
order,  but  the  mob  would  not  dis- 
perse. Upon  the  soldiers  they  heaped 
every  indignity  and  insult.  They  dared 
them  to  shoot,  and  with  clubs  and  stones 
drove  the  soldiers  before  them .  At  last 
the  troops  made  a  stand  and  in  order 
to  save  themselves  from  absolute  rout 
fired  a  volley.  Five  men  fell  dead — and 
the  mob  dispersed. 

This  was  the  so-called  Boston  massacre. 

Pinkerton  guards  would  blush  at  bag- 
ging so  small  a  game  with  a  volley. 
They  have  done  better  again  and  again 
at  Pittsburg,  Pottsville,  and  Chicago. 

The  riot  was  quelled,  and  out  of  the 
170 


^obii  1l3aiicock 


scrimmage  various  suits  were  instigated 
by  the  Crown  against  John  Hancock,  in 
the  Court  of  Admiralty.  The  claims 
against  him  amounted  to  over  three 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  the  charge 
was  that  he  had  long  been  evading  the 
revenue  laws.  John  Adams  was  his 
attorney,  with  Samuel  Adams  as  counsel, 
and  vigorous  efforts  for  prosecution  and 
defence  were  being  made. 

If  the  Crown  were  successful  the  suits 
would  confiscate  the  entire  Hancock 
estate — matters  were  getting  in  a  serious 
way.  Witnesses  were  summoned,  but 
the  trial  was  staved  off  from  time  to 
time. 

Hancock  had  refused  to  follow  Samuel 
Adams'  lead  in  the  controversy  with  Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson  as  to  the  right  to  con- 
vene the  General  Court.  The  report 
was  that  John  Hancock  was  growing 
lukewarm  and  siding  with  the  Tories. 
A  year  had  passed  since  the  massacre 
had  occurred,  and  the  agitators  proposed 
to  commemorate  the  day. 
171 


Jobn  IbancocI? 


Colonel  Hancock  had  appeared  in  many 
prominent  parts  but  never  as  an  orator. 

"Why  not  show  the  town  what  you 
can  do  !  "  some  one  said. 

So  John  Hancock  was  invited  to  deliver 
the  oration.  He  did  so  to  an  immense 
concourse.  The  address  was  read  from 
the  written  page.  It  overflowed  with 
wisdom  and  patriotism  ;  and  the  earnest- 
ness and  eloquence  of  the  well-rounded 
periods  was  the  talk  of  the  town. 

The  knowing  ones  went  arouud  corners 
and  roared  with  laughter,  but  Samuel 
Adams  said  not  a  word.  The  charge  was 
everywhere  made  by  the  captious  and 
bickering  that  the  speech  was  written 
by  another,  and  that,  moreover,  John 
Hancock  had  not  a  very  firm  hold  even 
on  its  import.  It  was  the  one  speech  of 
his  life.  Anyway,  it  angered  General 
Gage  so  that  he  removed  Colonel  Han- 
cock from  his  command  of  the  cadets. 

An  order  was  out  for  Hancock's  arrest 
and  he  and  Samuel  Adams  were  in  hid- 
ing. 

172 


5obn  Ibancocft 


The  British  troops  marched  out  to 
Lexington  to  capture  them,  but  Paul 
Revere  was  two  hours  ahead,  and  when 
the  red-coats  arrived  the  birds  had  flown. 

Then  came  the  expulsion  of  the  British 
and  the  closing  of  all  courts,  the  Ad- 
miralty Court  included.  The  merchant- 
prince  breathed  easier  and  that  was  the 
last  of  the  Crown  vs.  John  Hancock. 


173 


ni. 

DURING  the  months  that  had  gone 
before,  when  the  Hancock  man- 
sion was  gay  with  floral  decora- 
tions, and  servants  in  livery  stood  at  the 
door  with  silver  trays,  and  the  dancing- 
hall  was  bright  with  mirth  and  music, 
Sanmel  Adams  had  quietly  been  working 
his  Bureau  of  Correspondence  to  the  end 
tliat  the  thirteen  Colonies  of  America 
should  come  together  in  convention. 
Chief  mover  of  the  plan,  and  the  one 
man  in  Massachusetts  who  was  giving 
all  of  his  time  to  it,  he  dictated  whom 
Massachusetts  should  send  as  delegates. 
This  delegation,  as  we  know,  included 
John  Hancock,  John  Adams,  and  Samuel 
Adams  himself. 

From  the  danger  of  Lexington,  Han- 
174 


Jobn  Ibancocft 


cock  and  Adams  made  their  way  to  Phila- 
delphia to  attend  the  Second  Congress. 

At  that  time  the  rich  men  of  New  Eng- 
land were  hurriedly  making  their  way 
into  the  English  fold .  Some  thought  that 
the  mother-country  had  been  harsh,  but, 
still,  England  had  only  acted  within  her 
right,  and  she  was  well  able  to  back  up 
this  authority.  She  had  regiment  upon 
regiment  of  trained  fighting  men,  war- 
ships, and  money  to  build  more.  The 
Colonies  had  no  army,  no  ships,  no 
capital. 

Only  those  who  have  nothing  to  lose 
can  afford  to  resist  lawful  authority — 
back  into  the  fold  they  went,  penitent 
and  under  their  breath  cursing  the  bull- 
headed  men  who  insisted  on  plunging 
the  country  into  red  war. 

Out  in  the  cold  world  stood  John  Han- 
cock, alone  save  for  Bowdoin,  among  the 
aristocrats  of  New  England.  The  British 
would  confiscate  his  property,  his  splen- 
did house — all  would  be  gone  ! 

"  It  will  all  be  gone,  anyway,"  calmly 
175 


5obn  "Ibancocft 


suggested  Samuel  Adams.  "  You  know 
those  suits  against  you  in  the  Admiralty 
Court  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes  !  " 

"  And  if  we  can  unite  these  thirteen 
Colonies  an  army  can  be  raised,  and 
we  can  separate  ourselves  entire,  in 
which  case  there  will  be  glory  for  some- 
body." 

John  Hancock,  the  rich,  the  ambitious, 
the  pleasure-loving,  had  burned  his 
bridges.  He  was  in  the  hands  of  Samuel 
Adams,  and  his  infamy  was  one  with  this 
man  who  was  a  professional  agitator,  and 
who  had  nothing  to  lose. 

General  Gage  had  made  an  offer  of  par- 
don to  all — all,  save  two  men — Samuel 
Adams  and  John  Hancock.  Back  into 
the  fold  tumbled  the  Tories,  but  against 
John  Hancock  the  gates  were  barred. 
John  Adams,  attorney  of  the  Hancock 
estate,  rubbed  his  chin,  and  decided  to 
stand  by  the  ship — sink  or  swim,  survive 
or  perish. 

Down  in  his  heart  Samuel  Adams 
176 


3obn  Ibancocfe 


grimly  smiled,  but  on  his  cold,  pale  face 
there  was  no  sign. 

The  British  held  Boston  secure,  and  in 
the  splendid  mansion  of  Hancock  lived 
the  rebel,  Lord  Percy,  England's  pet. 
The  furniture,  plate,  and  keeping  of  the 
place  were  quite  to  his  liking. 

Hancock's  ambitions  grew  as  the  days 
went  by.  The  fight  was  on.  His  prop- 
erty was  in  the  hands  of  the  British,  and 
a  price  was  upon  his  head.  He,  too, 
now  had  nothing  to  lose.  If  England 
could  be  whipped  he  would  get  his  prop- 
erty back,  and  the  honors  of  victory 
would  be  his,  beside. 

Ambition  grew  apace  ;  he  studied  the 
Manual  of  Arms  as  never  before,  and 
made  himself  familiar  with  the  lives  of 
Csesar  and  Alexander.  At  Harvard  he 
had  read  the  Anabasis  on  compulsion, 
but  now  he  read  it  with  zest. 

The  Second  Congress  was  a  congress 

of  action  ;  the  first  had  been  one  merely 

of  conference.      A  presiding  ofl&cer  was 

required,    and    Samuel    Adams    quietly 

177 


Jobn  Ibancock 


pushed  his  man  to  the  front.  He  let  it 
be  known  that  Hancock  was  the  richest 
man  in  New  England,  perhaps  in 
America,  and  a  power  in  every  emer- 
gency. 

John  Hancock  was  given  the  ofi&ce  of 
presiding  oflBcer,  the  place  of  honor. 

The  thought  never  occurred  to  him  that 
the  man  on  the  floor  is  the  man  who 
acts,  and  the  individual  in  the  chair  is 
only  a  referee  :  an  onlooker  of  the  con- 
test. When  a  man  is  chosen  to  preside 
he  is  safely  out  of  the  way,  and  no  one 
knew  this  better  than  that  clear-headed 
man,  wise  as  a  serpent,  Samuel  Adams. 

Hancock  was  intent  on  being  chosen 
Commander  of  the  Continental  army. 
The  war  was  in  Massachusetts,  her  prin- 
cipal port  closed,  all  business  at  a  stand- 
still. Hancock  was  a  soldier,  and  the 
chief  citizen  of  Massachusetts — the  com- 
mand should  go  to  him. 

Samuel  Adams  knew  this  could  never 
be. 

To  hold  the  Southern  Colonies  and 
17S 


5obn  Ibancocft 


give  the  cause  a  show  of  reason  before 
the  world,  an  aristocrat  with  something 
to  lose,  and  without  a  personal  grievance, 
must  be  chosen,  and  the  man  must  be 
from  the  South.  To  get  Hancock  in  a 
position  where  his  mouth  would  be 
stopped,  he  was  placed  in  the  chair.  It 
was  a  master  move. 

Colonel  George  Washington  was  al- 
ready a  hero  ;  he  had  fought  valiantly 
for  England.  His  hands  were  clean  ; 
while  Hancock  was  openly  called  a 
smuggler.  Washington  was  nominated 
by  John  Adams.  The  motion  was  sec- 
onded by  Samuel  Adams.  Hancock 
turned  first  red  and  then  deathly  pale. 
He  grasped  the  arms  of  his  chair  with 
both  hands,  and — put  the  question. 

It  was  unanimous. 

Hancock's  fame  seems  to  rest  on  the 
fact  that  he  was  presiding  officer  of  the 
Congress  that  passed  the  Declaration 
of  Independence,  and  therefore  its  first 
signer,  and,  without  consideration  for 
cost  of  ink  and  paper,  wrote  his  name  in 
179 


3ob\\  Ibancocft 


poster  letters.  When  you  look  upon  the 
Declaration  the  first  thing  you  see  is 
the  signature  of  John  Hancock,  and  you 
recall  his  remark,  "  I  guess  King  George 
can  read  that  without  spectacles."  The 
whole  action  was  melodramatic,  and  al- 
though a  bold  signature  has  ever  been 
said  to  betoken  a  bold  heart,  it  has  yet 
to  be  demonstrated  that  boys  who  whis- 
tle going  through  the  woods  are  indiffer- 
ent to  danger.  "  Conscious  weakness 
takes  strong  attitudes,"  says  Delsarte. 
The  strength  of  Hancock's  signature  was 
an  affectation  quite  in  keeping  with  his 
habit  of  riding  about  Boston  in  a  coach- 
and-six,  with  outriders  in  uniform,  and 
servants  in  livery. 

When  Hancock  wrote  to  Washington 
asking  for  an  appointment  in  the  army, 
the  wise  and  far-seeing  chief  replied  with 
gentle  words  of  praise  concerning  Colonel 
Hancock's  record,  and  wound  up  by  say- 
ing that  he  regretted  there  was  no  place 
at  his  disposal  worthy  of  Colonel  Han- 
cock's qualifications.  Well  did  he  know 
I  So 


5obn  If^ancock 


that  Hancock  was  not  quite  patriot 
enough  to  fill  a  lowly  rank. 

The  part  that  Hancock  played  in  the 
eight  years  of  war  was  inconspicuous. 
However,  there  was  little  spirit  of  re- 
venge in  his  character  :  he  sometimes 
scolded  but  he  did  not  hate.  He  never 
allowed  personal  animosities  to  make 
him  waver  in  his  loyalty  to  independence. 
In  fact,  with  a  price  upon  his  head  but 
one  course  was  open  for  him. 

Just  before  Washington  was  inaugu- 
rated President,  he  visited  Boston,  and  a 
curious  struggle  took  place  between  him 
and  Hancock,  who  was  Governor.  It 
was  all  a  question  of  etiquette — which 
should  make  the  first  call.  Each  side 
played  a  waiting  game,  and  at  last  Han- 
cock's gout  came  in  as  an  excellent  ex- 
cuse and  the  country  was  saved. 

In  one  of  his  letters,  Hancock  says  : 
"  The  entire  Genteel  portion  of  the  town 
was  invited  to  my  House,  while  on  the 
sidewalk  I  had  a  cask  of  Madeira  for  the 
Common  People."  His  repeated  re-elec- 
i8i 


5obn  Ibancocft 


tion  as  Governor  proves  his  popularity. 
Through  lavish  expenditure  his  fortune 
was  much  reduced,  and  for  many  years 
he  was  sorely  pressed  for  funds,  his  means 
being  tied  up  in  unproductive  ways. 

His  last  triumph,  as  Governor,  was  to 
send  a  special  message  to  the  Legislature, 
informing  that  body  that  "a  company 
of  Aliens  and  Foreigners  have  entered 
the  State,  and  the  Metropolis  of  Govern- 
ment, and  under  advertisements  insult- 
ing to  all  Good  Men  and  Ladies  have  been 
pleased  to  invite  them  to  attend  certain 
Stage-plays,  Interludes,  and  Theatrical 
Entertainments  under  the  Style  and  Ap- 
pellation of  Moral  Lectures.  .  .  . 
All  of  which  must  be  put  a  stop  to  to 
once  and  the  Rogues  and  Varlots  pun- 
ished," 

A  few  days  after  this  "  the  Aliens  and 
Foreigners  "  gave  a  presentation  of  Sher- 
idan's School  for  Scandal.  In  the  midst 
of  the  performance  the  sheriff  and  a 
posse  made  a  rush  upon  the  stage  and 
bagged  all  the  offenders. 
182 


Jobn  Ibancocfi 


When  their  trial  came  on  the  next  day, 
the  "  varlots  and  vagroms  "  had  secured 
high  legal  talent  to  defend  them,  one  of 
which  counsel  was  Harrison  Gray  Otis. 
The  actors  were  discharged  on  the  slim 
technicality  that  the  warrants  of  arrest 
had  not  been  properly  verified. 

However,  the  theatre  was  closed,  but  the 
"Common  People"  made  such  an  un- 
seemly howl  about  "  rights  "  and  all 
that,  that  the  Legislature  made  haste  to 
repeal  the  law  which  provided  that  play- 
actors should  be  flogged. 

Hancock  defaulted  in  his  stewardship 
as  Treasurer  of  Harvard  College,  and 
only  escaped  arrest  for  embezzlement 
through  the  fact  that  he  was  Governor  of 
the  State,  and  no  process  could  be  served 
upon  him.  After  his  death  his  estate 
paid  nine  years'  simple  interest  on  his 
deficit,  and  ten  years  thereafter  the  prin- 
cipal was  paid. 

His  widow  married  Captain  Scott,  who 
was  long  in  Hancock's  employ  as  master 
of  a  brig  ;  and  we  find  the  worthy  cap- 
183 


5obn  IbancocF: 


tain  proudly  exclaiming,  "  I  have  em- 
barked ou  the  sea  of  matrimony,  and  am 
now  at  the  helm  of  the  Hancock  man- 
sion ! ' ' 

No  biography  of  Governor  Hancock 
has  ever  been  written.  The  record  of 
his  life  flutters  only  in  newspaper  para- 
graphs, letters,  and  chance  mention  in 
various  diaries. 

Hancock  did  not  live  to  see  John  Ad- 
ams President.  Worn  by  worry,  and 
grown  old  before  his  time,  he  died  at  the 
early  age  of  fifty-six,  of  a  combination  of 
gout  and  that  unplebeian  complaint  we 
now  term  Bright's  disease. 

Thirty-five  years  after,  hale  old  John 
Adams  down  at  Quiucy  spoke  of  him  as 
"a  clever  fellow,  a  bit  spoiled  by  a 
legacy,  whom  I  used  to  know  in  my 
younger  days."  He  left  no  descendants, 
and  his  heirs  were  too  intent  on  being  in 
at  the  death  to  care  for  his  memory. 
They  neither  preserved  the  data  of  his 
life,  nor  over  his  grave  placed  a  head- 
stone. The  monument  that  now  marks 
184 


5ol3ii  1[3ancocft 


tis  resting-place  was  recently  erected  by 
the  State  of  Massachu?setts.  He  was 
buried  in  the  Old  Granary  Burying- 
Ground,  on  Tremont  Street,  and  onh' 
a  step  from  his  grave  sleeps  Samuel 
Adams. 


185 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS 


187 


To  the  guidance  of  the  legislative  councils  ;  to 
the  assistance  of  the  executive  and  subordinate 
departments  ;  to  the  friendly  co-operation  of  the 
respective  State  Governmeuts  ;  to  the  candid  and 
liberal  support  of  the  people,  so  far  as  it  may  be 
deserved  by  honest  industry  and  zeal,  I  shall 
look  for  whatever  success  may  attend  my  public 
service ;  and  knowing  that  "  except  the  Lord 
keep  the  city,  the  watchman  waketh  in  vain," 
with  fervent  supplications  for  His  favor,  to  His 
overruling  providence  I  commit,  with  humble 
but  fearless  confidence  my  own  fate,  and  the 
future  destinies  of  my  country. 

Inaugural  Address. 


i88 


3.       oL.    u^clccO'VV^ 


JOHN   QUINCY   ADAMS. 


I. 


NINE  miles  south  of  Boston,  just  a 
little  back  from  the  escalloped 
shores  of  Old  Ocean,  lies  the  vil- 
lage of  Braintree.  It  is  on  the  Plymouth 
post-road,  being  one  of  that  string  of  set- 
tlements, built  a  few  miles  apart  for  bet- 
ter protection,  that  lined  the  sea.  Boston 
being  crowded,  and  Plymouth  full  to 
overflowing,  the  home-seekers  spread  out 
north  and  south.  In  1620,  when  the  first 
cabin  was  built  at  Braintree,  land  that 
was  not  in  sight  of  the  coast  had  actually 
no  value.  Back  a  mile,  all  was  a  howling 
wilderness,  with  trails  made  by  wild 
beasts  or  savage  men  as  wild.  These 
189 


Jobn  QuincB  BOams 


paths  led  through  tangles  of  fallen  trees 
and  tumbled  rocks,  beneath  dark  over- 
hanging pines  where  winter's  snows 
melted  not  till  midsummer,  and  the  sun's 
rays  were  strange  and  alien.  Men  who 
sought  to  traverse  these  wa}'S,  had  to 
crouch,  and  crawl,  or  climb.  Through 
them  no  horse,  or  ox,  or  beast  of  burden 
had  carried  its  load. 

But  up  from  the  sea  the  ground  rose 
gradually  for  a  mile,  and  along  this  slope 
that  faced  the  tide,  wind  and  storm  had 
partially  cleared  the  ground,  and  on  the 
hillsides  our  forefathers  made  their 
homes.  The  houses  were  built  either 
facing  the  east  or  south.  This  persist- 
ence to  face  either  the  sun  or  sea 
shows  a  last,  strange  rudiment  of  pagan- 
ism, that  makes  queer  angles  now  that 
surveyors  have  come  with  Gunter's  chain 
and  transit,  laying  out  streets  and  doing 
their  work. 

A  mile  out  north  of  Braintree,  on  the 
Boston  road,  came,  in  1625,  one  Captain 
WoUastou,  a  merry  wight,  and  thirty 
190 


3obn  (SiuincB  BOams 


boon  companious,  all  of  whom  probably 
left  England  for  England's  good.  Tbey 
were  in  search  of  gold  and  pelf,  and  all 
were  agreed  on  one  point  :  they  were 
quite  too  good  to  do  any  hard  work. 
Their  camp  was  called  Mount  Wollaston, 
or  the  Merry  Mount.  Our  gallant  gen- 
tlemen cultivated  the  friendship  of  the 
Indians,  in  the  hope  that  they  would  re- 
veal the  caves  and  caverns  where  the 
gold  grew  lush,  and  nuggets  cumbered 
the  way  ;  and  the  Indians,  liking  the 
drink  they  offered,  brought  them  meal, 
and  corn,  and  furs. 

And  so  the  thirty  set  up  a  May-pole, 
adorned  with  buck's  horns,  and  drank 
and  feasted,  and  danced  like  fairies  or 
furies,  the  live-long  day  or  night.  So 
scandalously  did  these  exiled  lords  be- 
have, that  good  folks  made  a  wide  circuit 
'round  to  avoid  their  camp. 

Preaching  had  been  in  vain,  and  pray- 
ers for  the  conversion  of  the  wretches  re- 
mained unanswered.  So  the  neighbors 
held  a  convention,  and  decided  to  send 
igi 


Jobn  (SluincB  BOams 


Captain   Miles  Standisli  with  a  posse  to 
teach  the  merry  meu  manners. 

Standish  appeared  among  the  baccha- 
nalians one  morning,  perfectly  sober,  and 
they  were  not.  He  arrested  the  captain, 
and  bade  the  others  begone.  The  leader 
was  shipped  back  to  England,  with  com- 
pliments and  regrets,  and  the  thirty  scat- 
tered. This  was  the  first  move  in  that 
quarter  in  favor  of  local  option. 

Six  years  later,  the  land  thereabouts 
was  granted  and  apportioned  out  to  Rev. 
John  Wilson,  William  Coddington,  Ed- 
ward Quinsey,  James  Penniman,  Moses 
Payne,  and  Francis  Eliot. 

And  these  men  and  their  families  built 
houses  and  founded  "the  North  Precinct 
of  the  Town  of  Braintree." 

Between  the  North  Precinct  and  the 
South  Precinct  there  was  continual  ri- 
valry. Boys  who  were  caught  over  the 
dead-line,  which  was  marked  by  Deacon 
Penniman's  house,  had  to  fight.  Thus 
things  continued  until  1792,  when  one 
John  Adams  was  Vice-President   of  the 


Jobn  (Siuincs  aDams 


United  States.  Now  this  John  Adams, 
lawj-er,  was  the  son  of  John  Adams,  hon- 
est farmer  and  cordwainer,  who  had 
bought  the  Penniman  homestead,  and 
whose  progenitor,  Henry  Adams,  had 
moved  there  in  1636.  John  Adams,  Vice- 
President,  afterwards  President,  was  born 
there  in  the  Penniman  house,  and  was 
regarded  as  a  neutral,  although  he  had 
been  thrashed  by  boys  both  from  the 
North  and  South  Precinct.  But  at  the 
last  there  is  no  such  thing  as  neutrality 
— John  Adams  sided  with  the  boys  from 
the  North  Precinct,  and  now  that  he  was 
in  power  it  occurred  to  him,  haviug  had 
a  little  experience  in  the  revolutionary 
line,  that  for  the  North  Precinct  to  secede 
from  the  great  town  of  Braintree,  would 
be  but  proper  and  right. 

The  North  Precinct  had  six  stores  that 
sold  W.  I.  goods,  and  a  tavern  that  sold 
W.  E.  T.  goods,  and  it  should  have  a 
post-office  of  its  own. 

So  John  Adams  suggested  the  matter 
to  Richard  Cranch,  who  was  his  brother- 
193 


5obn  (Sluincg  BDams 


in-law  and  near  neighbor.  Cranch  agi- 
tated the  matter,  and  the  new  town, 
which  was  the  old,  was  incorporated. 
They  called  it  Quincy,  probably  because 
Abigail,  John's  wife,  insisted  on  it.  She 
had  named  her  eldest  boy  Quincy,  in 
honor  of  her  grandfather,  whose  father's 
name  was  Quinsey,  and  who  had  relatives 
who  spelled  it  De  Quincey,  one  of  which 
tribe  was  an  opium  eater. 

Now,  when  Abigail  made  a  suggestion, 
John  usually  heeded  it.  For  Abigail  was 
as  wise  as  she  was  good,  and  John  well 
knew  that  his  success  in  life  had  come 
largely  from  the  help,  counsel,  and  in- 
spiration vouchsafed  to  him  by  this  splen- 
did woman.  And  the  man  who  will  not 
let  a  woman  have  her  way  in  all  such 
small  matters  as  naming  of  babies  or 
towns  is  not  much  of  a  man. 

So  the  town  was  named  Quincy,  and 
brother-in-law  Cranch  was  appointed  its 
first  postmaster.  Shortly  after,  the  Bos- 
ton Centinel  contained  a  sarcastic  article 
over  the  signature,  "Old  Subscriber," 
194 


5obn  (SiuincB  BDama 


concerning  the  distribution  of  official  pa- 
tronage among  kinsmen,  and  the  Eliots 
and  Everetts  gossiped  over  back  fences. 

At  this  time  Abigail  lived  in  the  cottage 
there  on  the  Plymouth  road,  half-way  be- 
tween Braintree  and  Quincy,  but  she  got 
her  mail  at  Quincy. 

The  Adams  cottage  is  there  now,  and 
the  next  time  you  are  in  Boston  you  had 
better  go  out  and  see  it,  just  as  June  and 
I  did  one  bright  October  day. 

June  has  lived  within  an  hour's  ride  of 
the  Adams's  home  all  of  her  blessed  thirty- 
two  sunshiny  summers  ;  she  also  boasts  a 
Mayflower  ancestry,  with,  however,  a 
slight  infusion  of  Castle  Garden,  like  my- 
self, to  give  firmness  of  fibre,  and  yet  she 
had  never  been  to  Quincy. 

The  John  and  Abigail  cottage  was  built 
in  1 716,  so  says  a  truthful  brick  found  in 
the  quaint  old  chimney.  Deacon  Penni- 
mau  built  this  house  for  his  son,  and  it 
faces  the  sea,  although  the  older  Penni- 
man  house  faces  the  south.  John  Adams 
was  born  in  the  older  house  ;  but  when  he 
195 


5obn  Quince  BOams 


used  to  go  to  Weymoutli  every  Wednes- 
day and  Saturday  evening  to  see  Abi- 
gail Smith,  the  minister's  daughter,  his 
father,  the  worthy  shoemaker,  told  him 
that  when  he  got  married  he  could  have 
the  other  house  for  himself. 

John  was  a  bright  young  lawyer  then, 
a  graduate  of  Harvard,  where  he  had 
been  sent  in  hopes  that  he  would  become 
a  minister,  for  one  half  of  the  students 
then  at  Harvard  were  embryo  preachers. 
But  John  did  not  take  to  theology. 

He  had  witnessed  ecclesiastical  tennis 
and  theological  pitch  and  toss  in  Brain- 
tree  that  had  nearly  split  the  town,  and 
he  decided  on  the  law.  One  thing  sure, 
he  could  not  work — he  was  not  strong 
enough  for  that — everybody  said  so. 
And  right  here  seems  a  good  place  to 
call  attention  to  the  fact  that  weak  men, 
like  those  who  are  threatened,  live  long. 
John  Adams's  letters  to  his  wife  reveal 
a  very  frequent  reference  to  liver  com- 
plaint, lung  trouble,  and  that  tired  feel- 
ing, yet  he  lived  to  l)e  ninety-two. 
iqb 


John  (Sluincg  B&ams 


The  Rev.  Mr.  Smith  did  not  at  first 
favor  the  idea  of  his  daughter  Abigail 
marrying  John  Adams.  The  Adams  fam- 
ily were  only  farmers  (and  shoemakers 
when  it  rained),  while  the  Smiths  had 
aristocracy  on  their  side.  He  said  law- 
yers were  men  who  got  bad  folks  out  of 
trouble  and  good  folks  in.  But  Abigail 
said  that  this  lawyer  was  different ;  and 
as  Mr.  Smith  saw  it  was  a  love-match, 
and  such  things  being  difficult  to  combat 
successfully,  he  decided  he  would  do  the 
next  best  thing — give  the  young  couple 
his  blessing.  Yet  the  neighbors  were 
quite  scandalized  to  think  that  their  pas- 
tor's daughter  should  hold  converse  over 
the  gate  with  a  lawyer,  and  they  let  the 
clergyman  know  it  as  neighbors  then  did, 
and  sometimes  do  now.  Then  did  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Smith  announce  that  he  would 
preach  a  sermon  on  the  sin  of  meddling 
with  other  folk's  business.  As  his  text  he 
took  the  passage  from  Luke  vii.,  33  :  "  For 
John  came  neither  eating  bread  nor  drink- 
ing  wine,  and  ye  say,  he  hath  a  devil." 
197 


Jobn  Quincs  BDams 


The  neighbors  saw  the  point,  for  a  short 
time  before,  when  the  eldest  daughter, 
Mary,  had  married  Richard  Cranch  (the 
man  who  was  to  achieve  a  post-office), 
the  communit}^  had  entered  a  protest, 
and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Smith  had  preached 
from  Luke  x.,  42:  "For  Mary  hath 
chosen  the  better  part  which  shall  not 
be  taken  away  from  her."  So  there, 
now  ! 

And  John  and  Abigail  were  married  one 
evening  in  the  church  at  early  candle- 
light, at  Weymouth.  The  good  father 
performed  the  ceremony,  and  nearly 
broke  down  during  it,  they  say,  and  then 
he  kissed  both  bride  and  groom. 

The  neighbors  had  repaired  to  the  par- 
sonage and  were  eating  and  drinking  and 
making  merry  when  John  and  Abigail 
slipped  out  by  the  back  gate,  and  made 
their  way,  hand  in  hand,  in  the  starlight, 
down  the  road  that  ran  through  the 
■woods  to  Braintree.  When  near  the  vil- 
lage they  cut  across  the  pasture  lot  and 
reached  their  cottage,  which  for  several 
iq8 


Jobn  (Sluincg  BDams 


■weeks  they  had  been  putting  in  order. 
John  unlocked  the  front  door,  and  they 
entered  over  the  big  flat  stone  at  the  en- 
try, and  over  which  you  may  enter  now, 
all  sunken  and  worn  by  generations  of 
men  gone.  Some  whose  feet  have  pressed 
that  doorstep  we  count  as  the  salt  of  the 
earth,  for  their  names  are  written  large 
on  history's  page.  Washington  rode  out 
there  on  horseback,  and  while  his  aide 
held  his  horse,  he  visited  and  drank 
mulled  cider  and  ate  doughnuts  within  ; 
Hancock  came  often,  and  Otis,  Samuel 
Adams,  and  Loring  used  to  enter  without 
plying  the  knocker. 

Through  the  earnest  work  of  Mr.  Wil- 
liam G.  Spear,  the  cottage  has  now  been 
restored  and  fully  furnished  as  nearly  like 
it  was  then  as  knowledge,  fancy,  and 
imagination  can  devise. 

When  we  reached  Quincy  we  saw  a 
benevolent-looking  old  Puritan,  and  June 
said,  "  Ask  him." 

"Can  you  tell  me  where  we  can  find 
Mr.  Spear,  the  antiquarian?  "  I  inquired. 
199 


5obn  (Sluincs  BDams 


"The  which ?  "  said  the  son  of  Priscilla 
Mullins. 

"  Mr.  Spear,  the  antiquarian,"  I  re- 
peated. 

"  It's  not  Bill  Spear  who  keeps  a  sec- 
ond-hand shop,  you  want,  mebbe  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  that  is  the  man." 

And  so  we  were  directed  to  the  ' '  second- 
hand shop,"  which  proved  to  be  the  rooms 
of  the  Quincy  Historical  Society.  And 
there  we  saw  such  a  collection  of  second- 
hand stuff,  that,  as  we  looked  and  looked, 
and  Mr.  Spear  explained,  and  gave  large 
slices  of  colonial  history,  June,  who  is  a 
Daughter  of  the  Revolution,  gushed  a 
trifle  more  than  was  meet. 

Nothing  short  of  a  hundred  years  will 
set  the  seal  of  value  on  an  article  for  Mr. 
Spear,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  is 
more  like  it.  On  his  walls  are  hats, 
caps,  spurs,  boots,  and  accoutrements 
used  in  the  Revolutionary  War.  Then 
there  are  candlesticks,  snuffers,  spec- 
tacles, butter-moulds,  bonnets,  dresses, 
shoes,   baby-stockings,    cradles,    rattles. 


3obn  (Siutncg  BDams 


aprons,  butter-tubs  made  out  of  a  solid 
piece,  shovels  to  match,  andirons,  pokers, 
skillets,  and  blue  china  galore. 

"Bill  Spear"  himself  is  quite  a  curi- 
osity. He  traces  a  lineage  to  the 
well-known  Lieutenant  Seth  Spear,  of 
Revolutionary  fame,  and  back  of  that  to 
John  Alden  who  spoke  for  himself.  The 
bark  on  the  antiquarian  is  rather  rough  ; 
and  I  regret  to  say  that  he  makes  use  of  a 
few  words  I  cannot  find  in  the  Century 
Dictionary,  but  as  June  was  not  shocked 
I  managed  to  stand  it.  On  further  ac- 
quaintance I  concluded  that  Mr.  Spear's 
brusqueness  is  assumed,  and  that  beneath 
the  tough  husk  there  beats  a  very  tender 
heart.  He  is  one  of  those  queer  fellows 
who  do  good  by  stealth  and  abuse  you 
roundly  if  accused  of  it. 

For  twenty-five  years  Mr.  Spear  has 
been  doing  little  else  but  study  colonial 
history,  and  make  love  to  old  ladies  who 
own  clocks  and  skillets  given  them  by 
their  great-grandmammas.  There  is  no 
doubt  but  that  Spear  has  dictated  clauses 

20I 


5obn  (SiuincB  BDams 


in  a  hundred  wills  devising  that  Wm.  G. 
Spear,  Custodian  of  the  Quincy  Histori- 
cal Society,  shall  have  snuffers  and  bis- 
cuit-moulds. 

At  first,  Mr.  Spear  collected  for  his  own 
amusement  and  benefit,  but  the  trouble 
grew  upon  him  until  it  became  chronic, 
and  one  fine  day  he  realized  that  he  was 
not  immortal  and  when  he  should  die, 
all  of  his  collectiou,  that  had  taken  years 
to  accumulate,  would  be  scattered.  And 
so  he  founded  the  Quincy  Historical  So- 
ciety, incorporated  by  a  perpetual  charter, 
with  Charles  Francis  Adams,  grandson  of 
John  Quincy  Adams,  as  first  president. 

Then  the  next  thing  was  to  secure  the 
cottage  where  John  and  Abigail  Adams 
began  housekeeping,  and  where  John 
Quincy  was  born.  This  house  has  been 
in  the  Adams  family  all  these  years  and 
been  rented  to  the  firm  of  Tom,  Dick,  and 
Harry,  and  any  of  their  tribe  who  would 
agree  to  pay  ten  dollars  a  month  for  its 
use  and  abuse.  Just  across  the  road  from 
the  cottage  lives  a  fine  old  soul  by  the 
202 


5obn  Quincg  BDams 


name  of  John  Crane.  Mr.  Crane  is  some- 
where between  seventy  and  a  hundred 
years  old,  but  he  has  a  young  heart,  a 
face  like  Gladstone  and  a  memory  like  a 
copy-book.  Mr.  Crane  was  on  very  good 
terms  with  John  Quincy  Adams,  knew  him 
well  and  had  often  seen  him  come  here  to 
collect  rent.  He  told  me  that  during  his 
recollection  the  Adams  place  had  been 
occupied  by  full  forty  families.  But  now, 
thanks  to  "Bill  Spear,"  it  is  no  longer 
for  rent. 

The  house  has  been  raised  from  the 
ground,  new  sills  placed  under  it,  and 
while  every  part— scantling,  rafter,  joist, 
cross-beam,  lath,  and  weather-board — of 
the  original  house  has  been  retained,  it 
has  been  put  in  such  order  that  it  is  no 
longer  going  to  ruin. 

From  the  ample  stores  of  his  various 
antiquarian  depositories  Mr.  Spear  has 
refurnished  it ;  and  with  a  ripe  knowledge 
and  rare  good  taste,  and  restraining  im- 
agination, the  cottage  is  now  shown  to 
us  as  a  colonial  farmhouse  of  the  year 
203 


Jobn  (SluincB  BDams 


1750.  The  wonder  to  me  is  that  Mr. 
Spear,  being  human,  did  not  move  his 
"  second-hand  shop "  down  here  and 
make  of  the  place  a  curiosity  shop.  But 
he  has  done  better. 

As  you  step  across  the  door-sill  and 
pass  from  the  little  entry  into  the  "living 
room  "  you  pause  and  murmur,  "  Excuse 
me."  For  there  is  a  fire  on  the  hearth, 
the  teapot  sings  softly,  and  on  the  back 
of  a  chair  hangs  a  suubonnet.  And  over 
there  on  the  table  is  an  open  Bible,  and 
on  the  open  page  is  a  pair  of  spectacles 
and  a  red  crumpled  handkerchief.  Yes, 
the  folks  are  at  home — they  have  just 
stepped  into  the  next  room — perhaps  are 
eating  dinner.  And  so  you  sit  down  in 
an  old  hickory  chair,  or  the  high  settle 
that  stands  against  the  wall  by  the  fire- 
place, and  wait,  expecting  every  moment 
that  the  kitchen  door  will  creak  on  its 
wooden  hinges,  and  Abigail,  smiling  and 
gentle,  will  enter  to  greet  you.  Mr. 
Spear  understands,  and,  disappearing, 
leaves  you  to  your  thoughts — and  June's. 
204 


3o\m  Quincg  a&ams 


John  and  Abigail  were  lovers  their  life- 
time through.  Their  published  letters 
show  a  oneness  of  thought  and  senti- 
ment that,  viewed  across  the  years,  moves 
us  to  tears  to  think  that  such  as  they 
should  at  last  feebly  totter,  and  then  turn 
to  dust.  But  here  they  came  in  the  jo}-- 
ous  springtime  of  their  lives  ;  upon  this 
floor  you  tread  the  ways  their  feet  have 
trod  ;  these  walls  have  echoed  to  their 
singing  voices,  listened  to  their  counsels, 
and  seen  love's  caress. 

There  is  no  sxirplus  furniture,  nor  dis- 
play, nor  setting  forth  of  useless  things. 
Bvery  article  you  see  has  its  use.  The 
little  shelf  of  books,  well  thumbed,  dis- 
plays no  Trilby  nor  Quest  of  the  Golden 
Girl — not  an  anachronism  anywhere. 
Curtains,  chairs,  tables,  and  the  one  or 
two  pictures — all  ring  true.  In  the 
kitchen  are  washtubs  and  butter  ladles 
and  bowls,  and  the  lantern  hanging  by 
the  chimney,  with  a  dipped  candle  in- 
side, has  a  carefully  scraped  horn  face. 
It  is  a  lant-horn.  In  the  cupboard  across 
205 


5obii  Qufncg  BDams 

the  corner  are  blue  china  and  pewter 
spoons  and  steel  knives,  with  just  a  little 
polished  brass  stuff  sent  from  England. 
Down  in  the  cellar,  with  its  dirt  walls, 
are  apples,  yellow  pumpkins  and  pota- 
toes— each  in  its  proper  place,  for  Abi- 
gail was  a  rare  good  housekeeper.  Then 
there  is  a  barrel  of  cider,  with  a  hickory 
spigot  and  inviting  gourd.  All  tells  of 
economy,  thrift,  industry,  and  the  cun- 
ning of  woman's  hands. 

In  the  kitchen  is  a  funny  cradle, 
hooded,  and  cut  out  of  a  great  pine  log. 
The  little  mattress  and  the  coverlet  seem 
disturbed,  and  you  would  declare  the 
baby  had  just  been  lifted  out,  and  you 
listen  for  its  cry.  The  rocker  is  worn  by 
the  feet  of  mothers  whose  hands  were 
busy  with  needles  or  wheel  as  they 
rocked  and  sang.  And  from  the  fact 
that  it  is  in  the  kitchen  you  know  that 
the  servant-girl  problem  then  had  no 
terrors. 

Overhead  hang  ears  oi  corn,  bunches 
of  dried  catnip,  pennyroyal,  and  bone- 
206 


5obn  (SliiincB  BDams 


set,  and  festooned  across  the  corner,  are 
strings  of  dried  apples. 

Then  you  go  upstairs,  with  conscience 
pricking  a  bit  for  thus  visiting  the  house 
of  honest  folks  when  thej-  are  away,  for 
you  know  how  all  good  housewives  dis- 
like to  have  people  prying  about,  espe- 
cially in  the  upper  chambers — at  least 
June  said  so  ! 

The  room  to  the  right  was  Abigail's 
own.  You  would  know  it  was  a  woman's 
room.  There  is  a  faint  odor  of  lavender 
and  thyme  about  it,  and  the  white  and 
blue  draperies  around  the  little  mirror, 
and  the  little  feminine  nothings  on  the 
dresser,  reveal  the  lady  who  would  ap- 
pear well  before  the  man  she  loves. 

The  bed  is  a  high,  draped  four-poster, 
plain  and  solid,  evidently  made  by  a 
ship-carpenter  who  had  ambitions.  The 
coverlet  is  light  blue,  and  matches  the 
draperies  of  windows,  dresser,  and  mir- 
ror. On  the  pillow  is  a  nightcap,  in 
which  even  a  homely  woman  would  be 
beautiful.  There  is  a  clothes-press  in  the 
207 


5obn  (Sliiincs  BDams 


corner,  into  which  Mr.  Spear  says  we 
may  look.  On  the  door  is  a  slippery-elm 
button,  aud  within,  hanging  on  wooden 
pegs,  are  dainty  dresses  ;  stiff,  curiously 
embroidered  gowns  they  are,  that  came 
from  across  the  sea,  sent,  perhaps,  by 
John  Adams  when  he  went  to  France, 
and  left  Abigail  here  to  farm  and  sew 
and  weave  and  teach  the  children. 

June  examined  the  dresses  carefully, 
and  said  the  embroidery  was  hand-made, 
and  must  have  taken  months  and  months 
to  complete.  On  a  high  shelf  of  the 
closet  are  band-boxes,  in  which  are 
bonnets,  astonishing  bonnets,  with  pro- 
digious flaring  fronts.  Mr.  Spear  in- 
sisted that  June  should  try  one  on, 
and  when  she  did  we  stood  off  and  de- 
clared the  effect  was  a  vision  of  love- 
liness. Outside  the  clothes-press,  on  a 
peg,  hangs  a  linsey-woolsey  every-day 
gown  that  shows  marks  of  wear.  The 
waist  came  just  under  June's  arms,  and 
the  bottom  of  the  dress  to  her  shoe-tops. 
We  asked  Mr.  Spear  the  price  of  it,  but 
208 


^obn  (Siuinc^  SOams 


the  custodian  is  not  commercial.  In  a 
corner  of  the  room  is  a  cedar  chest  con- 
taining hand-woven  linen. 

By  the  front  window  is  a  little,  low 
desk,  with  a  leaf  that  opens  out  for  a 
writing-shelf.  And  here  yoii  see  quill 
pens,  fresh  nibbed,  and  ink  in  a  curious 
well  made  from  horn.  Here  it  was  that 
Abigail  wrote  those  letters  to  her  lover- 
husband  when  he  attended  those  first 
and  second  Congresses  in  Philadelphia ; 
and  then  when  he  was  in  France  and 
England — those  letters  in  which  we  see 
affection,  loyalty,  tales  of  babies  with 
colic,  brave  political  good  sense,  and  all 
those  foolish  trifles  that  go  to  fill  up  love- 
letters,  and,  at  the  last,  are  their  divine 
essence  and  charm. 

Here  she  wrote  the  letter  telling  of 
going  with  their  seven-year-old  boy,  John 
Quincy,  to  Peun's  Hill  to  watch  the  burn- 
ing of  Charlestown  ;  and  saw  the  flashing 
of  cannons  and  rising  smoke  that  marked 
the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  Here  she  wrote 
to  her  husband  when  he  was  minister  to 
209 


5obn  QumcB  SDams 


England,  "This  little  cottage  has  more 
comfort  and  satisfaction  for  you  than  the 
courts  of  royalty." 

But  of  all  the  letters  written  by  that 
brave  woman  none  reveal  her  true  nobil- 
ity better  than  the  one  written  to  her  hus- 
band the  day  he  became  President  of  the 
United  States.     Here  it  is  entire  : 

QuiNCY,  8  February,  1797. 

"  The  sun  is  dressed  in  brightest  beams. 
To  give  thy  honors  to  the  day." 

And  may  it  prove  an  auspicious  pre- 
lude to  each  ensuing  season.  You  have  this 
day  to  declare  yourself  head  of  a  Nation. 
And  now,  O  Lord,  my  God,  Thou  hast 
made  thy  servant  ruler  over  the  people. 
Give  unto  him  an  understanding  heart, 
that  he  may  know  how  to  go  out  and 
come  in  before  this  great  people  ;  that  he 
may  discern  between  good  and  bad.  For 
■who  is  able  to  judge  this  thy  so  great  a 
people?,  were  the  words  of  a  royal  Sover- 
eign ;  and  not  less  applicable  to  him  who 
is  invested  with  the  Chief  Magistracy  of 
a  nation,  though  he  wear  not  a  crown, 
nor  the  robes  of  royalt)'. 

My  thoughts  and  my  meditations  are 
with  you,  though  personally  absent ;  and 
mv  petitions  to  Heaven  are  that  the 
things  which  make  for  peace  may  not  be 
hidden  from  yotir  eyes.     My  feelings  are 


^obn  Q.mnc'Q  BDams 


not  those  of  pride  or  ostentation  upon 
the  occasion.  They  are  solemnized  by  a 
sense  of  the  obHgations,  the  important 
trusts,  and  numerous  duties  connected 
with  it.  That  you  may  be  enabled  to 
discharge  them  with  honor  to  yourself, 
with  justice  and  impartiality  to  your 
country,  and  with  satisfaction  to  this 
great  people,  shall  be  the  daily  prayer 
of  your 

A.  A. 

It  was  in  this  room  that  Abigail  waited 
while  British  soldiers  ransacked  the  rooms 
below  and  made  bullets  of  the  best  pew- 
ter spoons.  Here  her  son  who  was  to  be 
President  was  born. 

John  Quiucy  Adams  was  six  years  old 
when  his  father  kissed  him  good-bye  and 
rode  away  for  Philadelphia  with  John 
Hancock  and  Samuel  Adams  (who  rode  a 
horse  loaned  him  by  John  Adams).  Abi- 
gail stood  in  the  doorway  holding  the 
baby  and  watched  them  disappear  in  the 
curve  of  the  road.  This  was  in  August, 
1774.  Most  of  the  rest  of  that  year  Abi- 
gail was  alone  with  her  babies  on  the 
little  farm.  It  was  the  same  next  year, 
and  in  1776,  too,  when  John  Adams  wrote 
211 


Jobn  Quince  B^ams 


home  that  he  had  made  the  formal  move 
for  Independency  and  also  nominated 
George  Washington  as  Commander-in- 
Chief  of  the  army  ;  and  he  hoped  things 
would  soon  be  better. 

Those  were  troublous  times  to  live  in 
the  vicinity  of  Boston.  There  were  strag- 
gling troops  passing  up  and  down  the 
Plymouth  road  every  day.  Sometimes 
they  were  red-coats  and  sometimes  buff 
and  blue,  but  all  seemed  to  be  very  hungry 
and  extremely  thirsty,  and  the  Adams 
household  received  a  deal  more  attention 
that  it  courted.  The  master  of  the  house 
was  away,  but  all  seemed  to  know  who 
lived  there,  and  the  callers  were  not 
always  courteous. 

In  such  a  feverish  atmosphere  of  unrest, 
children  evolve  quickly  into  men  and 
women,  and  their  faces  take  on  the  look 
of  thought  where  should  be  only  careless, 
happy,  dimpled  smiles.  Yes,  responsi- 
bility matures,  and  that  is  the  way  John 
Quincy  Adams  got  cheated  out  of  his 
childhood. 

212 


3obii  (Sluincs  BDams 


when  eight  years  of  age  his  mothei 

called  him  the  little  man  of  the  house. 
The  next  year  he  was  a  post-rider,  mak- 
ing a  daily  trip  to  Boston  with  letter-bags 
across  his  saddle-bows. 

When  eleven  years  of  age  his  father 
came  home  to  say  that  some  one  had  to 
go  to  France  to  serve  with  Jay  and  Frank- 
lin in  making  a  treaty. 

"Go,"  said  Abigail,  "and  God  be  with 
you ! "  But  when  it  was  suggested 
that  John  Quiucy  go  too,  the  parting 
did  not  seem  so  easy.  But  it  was  a  fine 
opportunity  for  the  boy  to  see  the  world 
of  men,  and  the  mother's  head  appreci- 
ated it  even  if  her  heart  did  not.  And 
yet  she  had  the  heroism  that  is  willing  to 
remain  behind. 

So  father  and  son  sailed  away ;  and 
little  John  Quincy  added  postscripts  to 
his  father's  letters  and  said,  "  I  send  my 
loxdng  duty  to  my  mamma." 

The  boy  took  kindly  to  foreign  ways 
as  boys  will,  and  the  French  language 
had  no  such  terrors  for  him  as  it  had  for 

213 


Jobn  (Siuincs  BDams 


his  father.  The  first  stay  in  Europe  was 
only  three  months,  and  back  they  came 
on  a  leaky  ship. 

But  the  home-stay  was  even  shorter 
than  the  stay  abroad,  and  John  Adams 
had  again  to  cross  the  water  on  his  coun- 
try's business.  Again  the  boy  went  with 
him. 

It  was  five  years  before  the  mother  saw 
him.  And  then  he  had  gone  on  alone 
from  Paris  to  London  to  meet  her.  She 
did  not  know  him,  for  he  was  nearly  eigh- 
teen and  a  man  grown.  He  had  visited 
every  country  in  Europe  and  been  the 
helper  and  companion  of  statesmen  and 
courtiers,  and  seen  society  in  its  various 
phases.  He  spoke  several  languages  and 
in  point  of  polish  and  manly  dignity  was 
the  peer  of  many  of  his  elders.  Mrs. 
Adams  looked  at  him  and  then  began  to 
cry,  whether  for  joy  or  sorrow  she  did  not 
know.  Her  boy  had  gone,  escaped  her, 
gone  forever,  but,  instead,  here  was  a  tall 
young  diplomat  calling  her  "  mother." 

There  was  a  career  ahead  for  John 
214 


Jobn  (funics  S&ams 


Quincy  Adams — his  father  knew  it,  his 
mother  was  sure  of  it,  and  John  Quincy 
himself  was  not  in  doubt.  He  could  then 
have  gone  right  on,  but  his  father  was  a 
Harvard  man,  and  the  New  England 
superstition  was  strong  in  the  Adams 
heart,  that  success  could  only  be  achieved 
based  on  a  Harvard  parchment. 

So  back  to  Massachusetts  sailed  John 
Quincy  ;  and  a  two-years  course  at  Har- 
vard secured  the  much  desired  diploma. 

From  the  very  time  he  crawled  over 
this  kitchen  floor  and  pushed  a  chair, 
learning  to  walk,  or  tumbled  down  the 
stairs  and  then  made  his  way  bravely  up 
again  alone,  he  knew  that  he  would  ar- 
rive. Precocious,  proud,  firm,  and  with 
a  coldness  in  his  nature  that  was  not  a 
heritage  from  either  his  father  or  mother, 
he  made  his  way. 

It  was  a  zigzag  course,  and  the  way  was 
strewn  with  the  flotsam  and  jetsam  of 
wrecked  parties  and  blighted  hopes,  but 
out  of  the  wreckage  John  Quincy  Adams 
always  appeared,  calm,  poised,  and  se- 
215 


5obn  QuincB  BDams 


rene.  When  be  opposed  the  purchase  of 
Louisiana  it  looks  as  if  he  allowed  his 
animosity  for  Jefferson  to  put  his  judg- 
ment in  chancery.  He  made  mistakes, 
but  this  was  the  only  blunder  of  his 
career.  The  record  of  that  life  expressed 
in  bold  stands  thus  : 

1767 — Bom  May  iitb. 

1776 — Post-rider  between    Boston  and 
Quincy. 

1778 — At  school  in  Paris. 

1780 — At  school  in  Leyden. 

1781 — Private  Secretary  to  Minister  to 
Russia. 

1787 — Graduated  at  Harvard. 

1794 — Minister  at  The  Hague. 

1797 — Married  Louise  Catherine  John- 
sou,  of  Maryland. 

1797 — Minister  at  Berlin. 

1802 — Member  of  Massachusetts  State 
Senate. 

1803— United  States  Senator. 

1806 — Professor  of  Rhetoric  and  Ora- 
tory at  Harvard. 

1809 — Minister  to  Russia. 
216 


3obn  Qutncs  SDams 


1811 — Nomiiialed  and  confirmed  by 
Senate  as  judge  of  Supreme  Court  of 
the  U.  S.  ;  declined. 

1814— Commissioner  at  Ghent  to  treat 
for  peace  with  Great  Britain. 

1815— Minister  to  Great  Britain. 

1817 — Secretary  of  State. 

1825— Elected  President  of  the  United 
States. 

1S30 — Elected  a  Member  of  Congress, 
and  represented  the  district  for  seven- 
teen years. 

1848 — Stricken  with  paralysis  Feb.  21st 
in  the  Capitol,  and  died  the  second  day 
after. 


"Aren't  we  staying  in  this  room  a 
good  while?"  said  June  ;  "you  have  sat 
there  staring  out  of  that  window  looking 
at  nothing  for  just  ten  minutes,  and  not 
a  word  have  you  spoken  !  " 

Mr.  Spear  had  disappeared  into  space, 

and  so  we  made  our  way  across  the  little 

hall   to  the  room   that  belonged  to  Mr. 

Adams.    It  was  in  the  disorder  that  men's 

217 


5obn  (SluincB  BOams 


rooms  are  apt  to  be.  On  the  table  were 
quill  pens  and  curious  old  papers  with 
seals  on  them,  and  on  one  I  saw  the  date, 
June  i6,  176S, — the  whole  documeut  writ- 
ten out  in  the  hand  of  John  Adams, 
beginning  very  prim  and  careful,  then 
moving  off  into  a  hurried  scrawl  as  spirit 
mastered  the  letter.  There  is  a  little 
hair-covered  trunk  in  the  corner,  studded 
with  brass  nails,  and  boots  and  leggings 
and  canes  and  a  jack-knife  and  a  boot- 
jack, and,  on  the  window-sill,  a  friendly 
snuff-box.  In  the  clothes-press  were  buff 
trousers  and  an  embroidered  coat  and 
shoes  with  silver  buckles,  and  several 
suits  of  every-day  clothes,  showing  wear 
and  patches. 

On  up  to  the  garret  we  groped,  and 
bumped  our  heads  against  the  rafters. 
The  light  was  dim,  but  we  could  make 
out  more  apples  on  strings,  and  roots  and 
herbs  in  bunches  hung  from  the  peak. 
Here  was  a  three-legged  chair  and  a 
broken  spinning-wheel,  and  the  junk 
that  is  too  valuable  to  throw  away,  yet 
218 


5obn  (Siuincg  BDams 

not  good  enough  to  keep,   but  "some 
day  may  be  needed." 

Down  the  narrow  stairway  we  went, 
and  in  the  little  kitchen  Sammy,  the  art- 
ist, and  Mr.  Spear,  the  custodian,  were 
busy  at  the  fireplace  preparing  dinner. 
There  is  no  stove  in  the  house,  and  none 
is  needed.  The  crane  and  brick  oven 
and  long-handled  skillets  suffice.  Sammy 
is  au  expert  camp-cook,  and  swears  there 
is  death  in  the  chafing-dish,  and  grows 
profane  if  you  mention  one.  His  skill 
in  turning  flap-jacks  by  a "  simple  ma- 
nipulation of  the  long-handled  griddle 
means  more  to  his  true  ego  than  the  finest 
canvas. 

June  offered  to  set  the  table,  but  Sammy 
said  she  could  never  do  it  alone,  so  to- 
gether they  brought  out  the  blue  china 
dishes  and  pewter  plates.  Then  they 
drew  water  at  the  stone-curbed  well  with 
the  great  sweep,  carrying  the  leather- 
baled  wooden  bucket  between  them. 

I  was  feeling  quite  useless  and   asked, 
"  Can't  I  do  something  to  help  ? " 
219 


3obn  (auincs  BDams 


"  There  is  the  lye-leach  ! — you  might 
bring  out  some  ashes  and  make  some 
soft  soap,"  said  June  pointing  to  the 
ancient  leach  and  soap  kettle  in  the 
yard,  the  joys  of  Mr.  Spear's  heart. 

Sammy  stood  at  the  back  door  and 
pounded  on  the  dish  pan  with  a  wooden 
spoon  to  announce  that  dinner  was  ready. 
It  was  quite  a  sumptuous  meal  :  potatoes 
baked  in  the  ashes,  beans  baked  in  the 
brick  oven,  coffee  made  on  the  hearth, 
fish  cooked  in  the  skillet  and  pan-cakes 
made  on  a  griddle  with  a  handle  three 
feet  long. 

Mr.  Spear  had  aspirations  toward  an 
apple  pie  and  had  made  violent  eflForts  in 
that  direction,  but  the  product  being  dough 
on  top  and  charcoal  on  the  bottom  we 
declined  the  nomination  with  thanks. 

June  suggested  that  pies  should  be 
baked  in  an  oven  and  not  cooked  on  a 
pan-cake  griddle.  The  custodian  thought 
there  might  be  something  in  it — a  sug- 
gestion he  would  have  scorned  and 
scouted  had  it  come  from  me. 
220 


5obn  (Sluinci?  BDams 


To  change  the  rather  painful  subject, 
Mr.  Spear  began  to  talk  about  John  and 
Abigail  Adams,  and  to  quote  from  their 
Letters,  a  volume  he  seems  to  have  by 
heart. 

"  Do  you  know  why  their  love  was  so 
very  steadfast,  and  why  they  stimulated 
the  menial  and  spiritual  natures  of  each 
other  so  ?  "    asked  June. 

"  No,  why  was  it !  " 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,  it  was  because  they 
spent  one  third  of  their  married  life 
apart." 

"  Indeed  ! " 

"  Yes,  and  in  this  way  they  lived  in  an 
ideal  world.  In  all  their  letters  you  see 
they  are  always  counting  the  days  ere 
they  will  meet.  Now  people  that  are 
together  all  the  time  never  write  that  way 
because  they  do  not  feel  that  way — I'll 
leave  it  to  Mr.  Spear  !  " 

But  Mr.  Spear,  being  a  bachelor,  did 
not  know.  Then  the  case  was  referred  to 
Sammy,  and  Sammy  lied  and  said  he  had 
never  considered  the  subject. 

221 


5obn  (autncg  BDams 


"And  would  you  advise  then  that 
married  couples  live  apart  one  third  of 
the  time,  in  the  interests  of  domestic 
peace  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Certainly  !  "  said  June,  with  her 
Burne-Jones  chin  in  the  air.  "  Certainly, 
but  I  fear  you  are  the  man  who  does  not 
understand  ;  and  anyway  I  am  sure  it  will 
be  much  more  profitable  for  us  to  cultivate 
the  receptive  spirit  and  listen  to  Mr. 
Spear — such  opportunities  do  not  come 
very  often.  I  did  not  mean  to  interrupt 
you,  Mr.  Spear  ;  go  on  please  !  " 

And  Mr.  Spear  filled  a  clay  pipe  with 
natural  leaf  that  he  crumbled  in  his 
hand,  and  deftly  picking  a  coal  from  the 
fireplace  with  a  shovel  one  hundred  and 
fifty  years  old,  puflFed  five  times  silently, 
and  began  to  talk. 


222 


THOMAS  JEFFERSON 


223 


If  I  could  not  go  to  Heaven  but  with  a  Party  I 
would  not  go  there  at  all.— LeiU-r  to  Madison. 


224 


THOMAS  JEFFERSON. 


WIIvLIAM  and  Mary  College  was 
founded  by  the  persons  whose 
names  it  bears,  in  1692.  The 
founders  bestowed  on  it  an  endowment 
that  would  have  been  generous  had  there 
not  been  attached  to  it  sundry  strings 
in  way  of  conditions.  The  intent  was  to 
make  Indians  Episcopalians,  and  white 
students  clergymen  ;  and  the  assumption 
being  that  between  the  whites  and  abo- 
rigines there  was  little  difference,  the 
curriculum  was  an  ecclesiastic  medley. 

All  the  teachers  were  appointed  by  the 
Bishop  of  Ivondon,  and  the  places  were 
usually  given  to  clergymen   who    were 
not  needed  in  England. 
225 


^bonias  Jefferson 


To  this  college,  in  1760,  came  Thomas 
Jeflferson,  a  tall,  red-haired  youth,  aged 
seventeen.  He  had  a  sharp  nose  and  a 
sharp  chin  ;  and  a  youth  having  these 
has  a  sharp  intellect — mark  it  well. 

This  boy  had  not  been  "  sent  "  to  col- 
lege. He  came  of  his  own  accord  from 
his  home  at  Shadwell,  five  days'  horse- 
back journey  through  the  woods.  His 
father  was  dead  and  his  mother,  a  rare 
gentle  soul,  an  invalid. 

Death  is  not  a  calamiiy  per  se  ;  nor  is 
physical  weakness  necessarily  a  curse,  for 
out  of  these  seeming  unkind  conditions, 
nature  often  distils  her  finest  products. 
The  dying  injunction  of  a  father  may 
impress  itself  upon  a  son  as  no  example 
of  right-living  ever  can,  and  the  physical 
disability  of  a  mother  may  be  the  means 
that  work  for  excellence  and  strength. 
The  last  expressed  wish  of  Peter  Jefferson 
was  that  his  son  should  be  well  educated, 
and  attain  to  a  degree  of  useful  manliness 
that  the  father  had  never  reached.  And 
into  the  keeping  of  this  fourteen-year- 
226 


Cbomas  Jefferson 


old  youtb  the  dying  man,  with  the  last 
flicker  of  his  intellect,  gave  the  mother, 
sisters,  and  baby  brother. 

We  often  hear  of  persons  who  became 
aged  in  a  single  night,  their  hair  turning 
from  dark  to  white,  but  I  have  seen  death 
thrust  responsibility  upon  a  lad  and  make 
of  him  a  man  between  the  rising  of  the 
sun  and  its  setting.  When  we  talk  of 
"right  environment"  and  the  "proper 
conditions"  that  should  surround  grow- 
ing youth  we  fan  the  air  with  words, — 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  universal 
right  environment. 

An  appreciative  chapter  might  here  be 
inserted  concerning  those  beings  who 
move  about  only  in  rolling  chairs,  who 
never  see  the  winter  landscape  but 
through  windows,  and  exert  their  gentle 
sway  from  an  invalid's  couch,  to  which 
the  entire  household  or  neighborhood 
come  to  confession  or  counsel.  And  yet 
I  have  small  sympathy  for  the  people 
who  professionally  enjoy  poor  health, 
and  no  man  more  than  I  reverences  the 
227 


Cbomas  Jefferson 


Greek  passion  for  physical  perfection. 
But  a  close  study  of  Jefferson's  early  life 
reveals  the  truth,  that  the  death  of  his 
father  and  the  physical  weakness  of  his 
mother  and  sisters  were  factors  that 
developed  in  him  a  gentle  sense  of 
chivalry,  a  silken  strength  of  will,  and 
a  habit  of  independent  thoughtand  action 
that  served  him  in  good  stead  throughout 
a  long  life. 

Williamsburg  was  then  the  capital  of 
Virginia.  It  contained  only  about  a 
thousand  inuabitants,  but  when  the 
legislature     was    in     session    was     very 

gay. 

At  one  end  of  a  wide  avenue  was  the 
Capitol,  and  at  the  other  the  Gover- 
nor's "palace";  and  when  the  city  of 
Washington  was  laid  out,  Williamsburg 
served  as  a  model.  On  Saturdays,  there 
were  horse  races  on  the  "Avenue"; 
everybody  gambled  ;  cock-fights  and 
dog-fights  were  regarded  as  manly  diver- 
sions ;  there  was  much  carousing  at 
taverns,  and  often  at  private  houses  there 
228 


Cbomas  Jefferson 


were  all-night  dances  where  the  rising 
sun  found  everybody  but  the  servants 
plain  drunk. 

At  the  college,  both  teachers  and 
scholars  were  obliged  to  subscribe  to 
the  Thirty-nine  Articles  and  to  recite 
the  Catechism.  The  atmosphere  was 
charged  with  theology. 

Young  Jefferson  had  never  before  even 
seen  a  village  of  a  dozen  houses,  and  he 
looked  upon  this  as  a  type  of  all  cities. 
He  thought  about  it,  talked  about  it, 
wrote  about  it,  and  we  now  know  that  at 
this  time  his  ideas  concerning  city  ver- 
sus country  crystallized. 

Fifty  years  after,  when  he  had  come  to 
know  London  and  Paris,  and  had  seen  the 
chief  cities  of  Christendom,  he  repeated 
the  words  he  had  written  in  youth,  "  The 
hope  of  a  nation  lies  in  its  tillers  of  the 
soil !  " 

On  his  mother's  side  he  was  related  to 

the  "first  families,"  but  aristocracy  and 

caste  had  no  fascination  for  him,  and  he 

then  began  forming  those  ideas  of  util- 

229 


Sboma^  Jcffciison 


ity,   simplicity,    and   equality   that   time 
only  strengthened. 

His  tutors  and  professors  served  chiefly 
as  "horrible  examples,"  with  the  shining 
exception  of  Doctor  Small.  The  friend- 
ship that  ripened  between  this  man  and 
young  Jefferson  is  an  ideal  example  of 
what  can  be  done  through  the  personal 
touch.  Men  are  only  great  as  they  excel 
in  sympathy  ;  and  the  difference  between 
sympathy  and  imagination  has  not  yet 
been  shown  us. 

Doctor  Small  encouraged  the  young 
farmer  from  the  hills  to  think  and  express 
himself.  He  did  not  endeavor  to  set  him 
straight  or  explain  everything  for  him, 
or  correct  all  of  his  vagaries,  or  demand 
that  he  should  memorize  rules.  He  gave 
his  aff"ectionate  sympathy  to  the  boy  who, 
with  a  sort  of  feminine  tenderness,  clung 
to  the  only  person  who  understood  him. 

To  Doctor  Small,  pedigree  and  history 

unknown,  let  us  give  the  credit  of  being 

first  in  the  list  of  friends  that  gave  bent 

to  the  mind  of  Jefferson.    John  Burk,  in 

230 


Cbomas  Jefferson 


his  History  of  Virginia,  refers  to  Profes- 
sor Small  thus:  "He  was  not  any  too 
orthodox  in  his  opinions."  And  here  we 
catch  a  glimpse  of  a  formative  influence 
in  the  life  of  Jefferson  that  caused  him  to 
turn  from  the  letter  of  the  law  and  cleave 
to  the  spirit  that  maketh  alive.  After 
school  hours  the  tutor  and  student  walked 
and  talked,  and  on  Saturdays  and  Sun- 
days went  on  excursions  through  the 
woods  ,  and  to  the  youth  there  was  given 
an  impulse  for  a  scientific  knowledge  of 
birds  and  flowers  and  the  host  of  life  that 
thronged  the  forest.  And  when  the  pair 
had  strayed  so  far  beyond  the  town  that 
darkness  gathered  and  stars  came  out, 
they  conversed  of  the  wonders  of  the 
sky. 

The  true  scientist  has  no  passion  for 
killing  things.  He  says  with  Thoreau, 
"  to  shoot  a  bird  is  to  lose  it."  Professor 
Small  had  the  gentle  instinct  that  re- 
spects life,  and  he  refused  to  take  that 
which  he  could  not  give.  To  his  youth- 
ful companion  he  imparted,  in  a  degree, 
231 


^bonias  3^cfferson 


the  secret  of  enjoying  things  without  the 
passion  for  possession  and  the  lust  of 
ownership. 

There  is  a  myth  abroad  that  college 
towns  are  intellectual  centres  ;  but  the 
number  of  people  in  a  college  town  (or 
any  other)  who  really  think,  is  very  few. 

Williamsburg  was  gay,  and,  this  much 
said,  it  is  needless  to  add  it  was  not  in- 
tellectual. But  Professor  Small  was  a 
thinker,  and  so  was  Governor  Fauquier  ; 
and  these  two  were  firm  friends,  although 
very  unlike  in  many  ways.  And  to  "  the 
palace"  of  the  courtly  Fauquier,  Small 
took  his  young  friend  Jefferson.  Fau- 
quier was  often  a  master  of  the  revels,  but 
after  his  seasons  of  dissipation  he  turned 
to  Small  for  absolution  and  comfort.  At 
these  times  he  seemed  to  Jefferson  a  par- 
agon of  excellence.  To  the  grace  of  the 
French  he  added  the  earnestness  of  the 
English.  He  quoted  Pope,  and  talked 
of  vSwift,  Addison,  and  Thompson.  Fau- 
quier and  Jefferson  became  friends,  al- 
though more  than  a  score  of  years  and  a 
232 


G:boma0  Jetferson 


world  of  experience  separated  tbem.  Jef- 
fersou  caught  a  little  of  Fauquier's  grace, 
love  of  books,  and  delight  in  architec- 
ture. But  Fauquier  helped  him  most  by 
gambling  away  all  of  his  ready  money 
and  getting  drunk  and  smoking  strong 
pipes  with  his  feet  on  the  table.  And 
Jefferson  then  vowed  he  would  never 
handle  a  card,  nor  use  tobacco,  nor  drink 
intoxicating  liquors.  And  in  conversa- 
tion with  Small  he  anticipated  Buckle  by 
saying,  "To  gain  leisure,  wealth  must 
first  be  secured ;  but  once  leisure  is 
gained,  more  people  use  it  in  the  pursuit 
of  pleasure  than  employ  it  in  acquiring 
knowledge." 


233 


II. 


HAD  Jefferson  lived  in  a  great  city 
be  would  have  been  an  architect. 
His  practical  nature,  his  mastery 
of  mathematics,  his  love  of  proportion, 
and  his  passion  for  music  are  the  basic 
elements  that  make  a  Christopher  Wren. 
But  Virginia,  in  1765,  offered  no  tempta- 
tion to  ambitions  along  that  line  ;  log- 
houses  with  a  goodly  "crack"  were 
quite  good  enough,  and  if  the  domicile 
proved  too  small  the  plan  of  the  first  was 
simply  duplicated.  Yet  a  career  of  some 
kind  young  Jefferson  knew  awaited 
him. 

About  this  time  the  rollicking  Patrick 
Henry  came  along.  Patrick  played  the 
violin  and  so  did  Thomas.  These  two 
young  men  had  first  met  on  a  musical 
basis.  Some  otherwise  sensible  people 
234 


CM 


4 


Cbomas  Seflereon 


hold  that  musicians  are  shallow  and  im- 
practical ;  and  I  know  one  man  who 
declares  that  truth  and  honesty  and 
uprightness  never  dwelt  in  a  professional 
musician's  heart ;  and  further,  that  the 
tribe  is  totally  incapable  of  comprehend- 
ing the  difference  between  meuni  and 
tuunt.  But  then  this  same  man  claims 
that  actors  are  rascals  who  have  lost 
their  own  characters  in  the  business  of 
playing  they  are  somebody  else.  And 
yet  I  '11  explain  for  the  benefit  of  the 
captious  that  although  Thomas  Jefferson 
and  Patrick  Henry  both  fiddled,  they 
never  did  and  never  would  fiddle  while 
Rome  burned.  Music  was  with  them  a 
pastime,  not  a  profession. 

As  soon  as  Patrick  Henry  arrived  at 
Williamsburg  he  sought  out  his  old  friend 
Thomas  Jefferson,  because  he  liked  him — 
and  to  save  tavern  bill.  And  Patrick 
announced  that  he  had  come  to  Williams- 
burg to  be   admitted  to  the  bar. 

"  How  long  have  you  studied  law?" 
asked  Jefferson, 

235 


G^bomas  Jefferson 


"Oh,  for  six  weeks  last  Tuesday,"  was 
the  answer. 

Tradition  has  it  that  Jefferson  advised 
Patrick  to  go  home  and  study  at  least 
a  fortuight  more  before  making  his 
application.  But  Patrick  declared  that 
the  way  to  learn  law  is  to  practise  it, 
and  he  surely  was  right.  Most  young 
lawyers  are  really  never  •  aware  of  how 
little  law  they  know  until  they  begin 
to  practise. 

But  Patrick  Henry  was  duly  admitted, 
although  George  Wythe  protested.  Then 
Patrick  went  back  home  to  tend  bar  (the 
other  kind)  for  Laban,  his  father-in-law, 
for  full  four  years.  He  studied  hard  and 
practised  a  little  betimes — and  his  is  the 
only  instauce  that  history  records  of  a 
bar-keeper  acquiring  wisdom  while  fol- 
lowing his  calliug  ;  but  for  the  encour- 
agement of  budding  youth  I  write  it 
down. 


236 


III. 

No  doubt  it  was  the  example  of  Pat- 
rick Henry  that  caused  Jefferson 
to  adopt  his  profession.  But  it 
was  the  literary  side  of  law  that  first 
attracted  him — not  the  practice  of  it.  As 
a  speaker  he  was  singularly  deficient,  a 
slight  physical  malformation  of  the 
throat  giving  him  a  very  poor  and 
uncertain  voice.  But  he  studied  law, 
and  after  all,  it  does  not  make  much 
difference  what  a  man  studies — all  knowl- 
edge is  related,  and  the  man  who  studies 
anything  if  he  keeps  at  it  will  become 
learned. 

So  Jefferson  studied  in  the  office  of 
George  Wythe,  and  absorbed  all  that 
Fauquier  had  to  offer,  and  grew  wise  in 
the  companionship  of  Doctor  Small. 
From  a  red-headed,  lean,  lank,  awkward 
237 


Cbomas  ^etfcison 


mountaineer,  he  developed  into  a  gra- 
cious and  graceful  young  man  who  has 
been  described  as  "  auburn -haired." 
And  the  evolution  from  being  red-headed 
to  having  red  hair,  and  from  that  to 
being  auburn-haired  proves  he  was  the 
genuine  article.  Still  he  was  not  hand- 
some— that  word  cannot  be  used  to 
describe  him  until  he  was  sixty— for  he 
was  freckled,  one  shoulder  was  higher 
than  the  other  and  his  legs  were  so  thin 
that  they  could  not  do  justice  to  small- 
clothes. 

Yet  it  will  not  do  to  assume  that  thin 
men  are  weak,  any  more  than  to  take 
it  for  granted  that  fat  men  are  strong. 
Jefferson  was  as  muscular  as  a  panther 
and  could  walk  or  ride  or  run  six  days 
and  nights  together.  He  could  lift  from 
the  floor  a  thousand  pounds. 

When  twenty-four,  he  hung  out  his 
lawyer's  sign  under  that  of  George 
Wythe  at  Williamsburg.  And  clients 
came  that  way  with  retainers,  and  rich 
planters  sent  him  business  and  wealthy 
23S 


^bomas  ^cflcveon 


widows  advised  with  him — and  still  he 
could  not  make  a  speech  without  stutter- 
ing. Many  men  can  harangue  a  jury, 
and  every  village  has  its  orator  ;  but 
where  is  the  wise  and  silent  man  who 
will  advise  you  in  a  way  that  will  keep 
you  out  of  difficulty,  protect  your  threat- 
ened interests,  and  conduct  the  affairs 
you  may  leave  in  his  hands  so  as  to 
return  your  ten  talents  with  other  tal- 
ents added !  And  I  hazard  the  state- 
ment, without  heat  or  prejudice,  that  if 
the  experiment  should  be  made  with  a 
thousand  lawyers  in  any  one  of  our  larger 
cities,  four  fifths  of  them  would  be  found, 
so  deficient  either  mentally,  morally,  or 
both,  that  if  ten  talents  were  placed  in 
their  hands,  they  would  not  at  the  close 
of  a  year  be  able  to  account  for  the 
principal,  to  say  nothing  of  the  interest. 
And  the  bar  of  to-day  is  made  up  of  a 
better  class  than  it  was  in  Jefferson's 
time,  even  if  it  has  not  the  intellectual 
fibre  that  it  had  forty  years  ago. 
But  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-five, 
239 


tCbomas  Setterson 


JeflFerson  was  a  wise  and  skilful  man 
in  the  world's  aflfairs  (and  a  man  who 
is  wise  is  also  honest)  and  men  of  this 
stamp  do  not  remain  hidden  in  obscu- 
rity. The  world  needs  just  such  indi- 
viduals and  needs  them  badly.  JeflFerson 
had  the  quiet,  methodical  industry 
that  works  without  undue  expenditure 
of  nervous  force  ;  that  intuitive  talent 
which  enables  the  possessor  to  read  a 
whole  page  at  a  glance  and  drop  at  once 
upon  the  vital  point  ;  and  then  he  had 
the  ability  to  get  his  whole  case  on 
paper,  marshaling  his  facts  in  a  brief 
pointed  way  that  served  to  convince 
better  than  eloquence.  These  are  the 
characteristics  that  make  for  success  in 
practice  before  our  Courts  of  Appeal  ; 
and  JeflFerson's  success  shows  that  they 
serve  better  than  bluster  even  with  a 
back-woods  bench  composed  of  fox- 
hunting farmers. 

In   1768,    when  Jeiferson  was  twenty- 
five,  he  went  down  to  Shadwell   and  ran 
for  member  of  the  Virginia  Legislature. 
240 


(Tbomas  Jefferson 


It  was  the  proper  thing  to  do,  for  he 
was  the  richest  man  in  the  county, 
being  heir  to  his  father's  forty  thousand 
acres,  and  it  was  expected  that  he  would 
represent  his  district.  He  called  on 
ever)'  voter  in  the  parish,  shook  hands 
with  everybody,  complimented  the  ladies, 
caressed  the  babies,  treated  crowds  at 
every  tavern  and  kept  a  large  punch 
bowl  and  open   house  at  home. 

He  was  elected. 

On  the  nth  of  May,  1769,  the  Legisla- 
ture convened,  with  nearly  a  hundred 
members  present.  Colonel  George  Wash- 
ington being  one  of  the  number.  It  took 
two  days  for  the  assembly  to  elect  a 
speaker  and  get  ready  for  business. 
On  the  third  day,  four  resolutions  were 
introduced — pushed  to  the  front  largely 
through  the  influence  of  our  new  mem- 
ber.    These  resolutions  were  : 

I.  No  taxation  without  representation. 

II.  The  Colonies  may  concur  and  unite 
in  seeking  redress  for  grievances. 

III.  Sending   accused     persons    away 

241 


Cbomas  Jetferson 


from  their  own  country  for  trial  is  an 
inexcusable  wrong. 

IV.  We  will  send  an  address  on  these 
things  to  the  King  beseeching  his  royal 
interposition. 

The  resolutions  were  passed  ;  they  did 
not  mean  much  any  way,  the  opposition 
said.  And  then  another  resolution  was 
passed  to  the  effect,  "We  will  send  a 
copy  of  these  resolutions  to  every  legisla- 
tive body  on  the  continent."  That  was  a 
little  stronger  but  did  not  mean  much 
either. 
It  was  voted  upon  and  passed. 
Then  the  assembly  adjourned,  having 
dispatched  a  copy  of  the  resolutions  to 
Lord  Boutetoiirt,  the  newly  appointed 
Governor  who  had  just  arrived  from 
London. 

Next  day,  the  Governor's  secretary 
appeared  when  the  assembly  convened 
and  repeated  the  following  formula : 
"  The  Governor  commands  the  House  to 
attend  His  Excellency  in  the  Council 
Chamber."  The  members  marched  to 
242 


^bomas  Jefferson 


the  Council  Chamber  and  stood  around 
the  throne  waiting  the  pleasure  of  His 
Lordship.  He  made  a  speech  which  I 
will  quote  entire.  "  Mr.  Speaker  and 
Gentlemen  of  the  House  of  Burgesses  : 
I  have  heard  your  resolves,  and  augur  ill 
of  their  effect.  You  have  made  it  my 
duty  to  dissolve  you,  and  you  are  dis- 
solved accordingly." 

And  that  was  the  end  of  Jefferson's 
first  term  in  office, — the  reward  for  all 
the  hand-shaking,  all  the  caressing,  all 
the  treating  ! 

The  members  looked  at  each  other  but 
no  one  said  anything  because  there  was 
nothing  to  say.  The  secretary  made  an 
impatient  gesture  with  his  hand  to  the 
effect  that  they  should  disperse,  and  they 
did. 

Just  how  those  legally  elected  represen- 
tatives and  now  legally  common  citizens 
took  their  rebuff  we  do  not  know. 

Did  Washington  forget  his  usual  poise 
and  break  out  into  one  of  those  swearing 
fits  where  everybody  wisely  made  way  ? 
243 


^bomae  Jcftcreon 


And  how  did  Richard  Henry  Lee  like  it, 
and  George  Wythe,  and  the  Randolphs  ! 
Did  Patrick  Henry  wax  eloquent  that 
afternoon  in  a  barroom  and  did  Jefferson 
do  more  than  smile  grimly,  biding  his 
time  ? 

Massachusetts  kept  a  complete  history 
of  her  political  heresies,  but  Virginia 
chased  foxes  and  left  the  refinements  of 
literature  to  dillettantes.  But  this  much 
we  know  :  Those  country  gentlemen  did 
not  go  off  peaceably  and  quietly  to  race 
horses  or  play  cards.  The  slap  in  the  face 
from  the  gloved  hand  of  Lord  Boutetourt 
awoke  everj'  boozy  sense  of  security  and 
gave  vitality  to  all  those  fanatical  mes- 
sages sent  by  Samuel  Adams.  Washing- 
ton, we  are  told,  spoke  of  it  as  a  bit  of 
upstart  authority  on  the  part  of  the  new 
Governor  ;  but  Jefferson  with  prophetic 
vision  saw  the  end. 


244 


THOMAS    lEFFERSON. 


IV. 


ONE  of  the  leading  lawyers  at  Wil- 
liamsburg, against  wliom  Jeffer- 
son was  often  pitted  was  John 
Wayles.  I  need  not  explain  that  lawyers 
hotly  opposed  to  each  other  in  a  trial  are 
not  necessarily  enemies.  The  way  in 
which  Jefferson  conducted  his  cases 
pleased  the  veteran  Wayles  and  he  in- 
vited Jefferson  to  visit  him  at  his  fine 
estate,  called  "  The  Forest,"  a  few  miles 
out  from  Williamsburg.  Now  in  the 
family  of  Mr.  Wayles  dwelt  his  widowed 
daughter,  the  beautiful  Martha  Skelton, 
gracious  and  rich  as  Jefferson  in  worldly 
goods.  She  played  the  spinet  with  great 
feeling,  and  the  spinet  and  the  violin  go 
very  well  together.  So  together  Thomas 
and  Martha  played  and  sometimes  a  bit 
of  discord  crept  in,  for  Thomas  was  absent- 
245 


ITbomas  Jefferson 


minded  and  in  the  business  of  watching 
the  widow's  fingers  touch  the  keys, 
played  flat. 

Long  years  before  he  had  liked  and  ad- 
mired Becca,  gazed  fondly  at  Sukey,  and 
finally  loved  Belinda.  He  did  not  tell 
her  so,  but  he  told  John  Page,  and  vowed 
that  if  he  did  not  wed  Belinda  he  would 
go  through  life  solitary  and  alone. 

In  a  few  months  Belinda  married  that 
detested  being — another.  Then  it  was  he 
again  swore  to  his  friend  Page  he  would 
be  true  to  her  memory  even  though  she 
had  dissembled.  But  now  he  saw  that 
the  widow  Skelton  had  intellect,  while 
Belinda  had  been  but  clever  ;  the  widow 
had  soul,  while  Belinda  had  nothing  but 
form.  JefiFerson's  experience  seems  to 
settle  that  mooted  question,  "  Can  a  man 
love  two  women  at  the  same  time  ?  "  Un- 
like Martha  Custis,  this  Martha  was  only 
won  after  a  protracted  wooing,  with  many 
skirmishes  and  occasional  misunderstand- 
ings and  explanations,  and  sweet  mak- 
ings-up  that  were  surely  worth  a  quarrel. 
246 


Q^bomas  Jefferson 


Theu  they  were  married  at  "The  For- 
est," and  rode  away  through  the  woods 
to  Monticello.  JeflFerson  was  twenty- 
seven,  and  although  it  may  not  be  proper 
to  question  closely  as  to  the  age  of  a 
widow,  yet  the  bride,  we  have  reason  to 
believe,  was  about  the  age  of  her  hus- 
band. 

It  was  a  most  happy  mating — all  of 
their  quarrelling  had  been  done  before 
marriage.  The  fine  intellect  and  high 
spirit  of  Jefferson  found  their  mate.  She 
was  his  comrade  and  helpmeet  as  well  as 
his  wife.  He  could  read  his  favorite  Os- 
sian  aloud  to  her,  and  when  he  tired  she 
would  read  to  him  ;  and  all  of  his  plans 
and  ambitions  and  hopes  were  hers.  In 
laying  out  the  grounds  and  beautifying 
that  home  on  Monticello  mountain  she 
took  much  more  than  a  passive  interest. 
It  was  "  Our  Home,"  and  to  make  it  a 
home  in  very  sooth  for  her  beloved  hus- 
band was  her  highest  ambition.  She 
knew  the  greatness  of  her  mate,  and  all 
the  dreams  she  had  for  his  advancement 
247 


^bomas  3eftcrson 


were  to  come  true.  With  lier,  ideality 
was  to  become  reality.  But  slie  was  to 
see  it  only  iu  part. 

Yet  she  had  seen  her  husband  re-elected 
to  the  Virginia  I^egislature  ;  sent  as  a 
member  to  the  Colonial  Congress  at  Phil- 
adelphia, there  to  write  the  best  known 
of  all  American  literary  productions; 
from  their  mountain  home  she  had  seen 
British  troops  march  into  Charlottesville, 
four  miles  away,  and  then,  with  house- 
hold treasure,  had  fled,  knowing  that 
beautiful  Monticcllo  would  be  devastated 
by  the  enemy's  ruthless  tread.  She  had 
known  Washington,  and  had  visited  his 
lonely  wife  there  at  Mount  Vernon  when 
victory  hung  in  the  balance,  when  defeat 
meant  that  Thomas  Jefferson  and  George 
Washington  would  be  the  first  victims 
of  a  vengeful  foe.  She  saw  her  husband 
War-Governor  of  Virginia  in  its  most 
perilous  hour  ;  she  lived  to  know  that 
Washington  had  won  ;  that  Cornwallis 
was  his  "guest,"  and  that  no  man,  save 
Washington  alone,  was  more  honored  in 
248 


^bomas  Jefferson 


proud  Virginia  than  her  beloved  lord 
and  husband.  She  saw  a  messenger  on 
horseback  approach  bearing  a  packet 
from  the  Congress  at  Philadelphia  to  the 
effect  that  "His  Excellency,  the  Honor- 
able Thomas  Jefferson,"  had  been  ap- 
pointed as  one  of  an  embassy  to  France 
in  the  interests  of  the  United  States,  with 
Benjamin  Franklin  and  Silas  Deane  as 
colleagues,  and  knowing  her  husband's 
love  for  Franklin,  and  his  respect  for 
France,  she  leaned  over  his  chair  and 
with  misty  eyes  saw  him  write  his  sim- 
ple "  No,"  and  knew  that  the  only  rea- 
son he  declined  was  because  he  would 
not  leave  his  wife  at  a  time  when  she 
might  most  need  his  tenderness  and  sym- 
pathy. 

And  then  they  retired  to  beloved  Mou- 
ticello  to  enjoy  the  rest  that  comes  only 
after  work  well  done — to  spend  the 
long  vacation  of  their  lives  in  simple 
home-keeping  work  and  studious  leis- 
ure, her  husband  yet  in  manhood's 
prime,  scarce  thirty-seven,  as  men  count 
249 


Cbcmas  Jefferson 


time,  and  rich,  passing  rich,  in  goods 
and  lands. 

And  then  she  died. 

And  Thomas  Jefiferson,  the  strong,  the 
self-poised,  the  self-reliant,  fell  in  a  help- 
less swoon,  and  was  laid  on  a  pallet  and 
carried  out,  as  though  he,  too,  were  dead. 
For  three  weeks  his  dazed  senses  prayed 
for  death.  He  could  endure  the  presence 
of  no  one  save  his  eldest  daughter,  a  slim, 
slender  girl  of  scarce  ten  j-ears,  grown  a 
woman  in  a  day.  By  her  loving  touch  and 
tenderness  he  was  liured  back  from  death 
and  reason's  night  into  the  world  of  life 
and  light.  With  tottering  steps,  led  by  the 
child  who  had  to  think  for  both,  he  was 
taken  out  on  the  veranda  of  beautiful 
Monticello.  He  looked  out  on  stretch- 
ing miles  of  dark-blue  hills  and  waving 
woods  and  winding  river.  He  gazed,  and 
as  he  looked  it  came  slowly  to  him  that 
the  earth  was  still  as  when  he  last  saw  it, 
and  realized  that  this  would  be  so  even  if 
he  were  gone.  Then,  turning  to  the  child, 
who  stood  by,  stroking  his  locks,  it  came 
250 


THOMAS    JEFFEKSON. 
From  the  original  bust  from  a  life-mask  by  J.  H.  I.  Bro.vere. 


ITbomas  Jefferson 


to  him  that  even  in  grief  there  may  be 
selfishness,  and  for  the  first  time  he  re- 
sponded to  the  tender  caress,  and  said : 
"Yes,  we  will  live,  daughter — live  in 
memory  of  her  !  " 


251 


V. 


WHEN  two  men  of  equal  intelli- 
gence and  sincerity  quarrel, 
both  are  probably  right. 
Hamilton  and  Jefferson  were  opposed  to 
each  other  by  temperament  and  dispo- 
sition, in  a  way  that  caused  either  to 
look  with  distrust  on  any  proposition 
made  by  the  other.  And  yet,  when 
Washington  pressed  upon  Jefferson  the 
position  of  Secretary  of  State,  I  cannot 
but  think  he  did  it  as  an  antidote  to  the 
growing  power  and  vaunting  ambition  of 
Hamilton.  Washington  won  his  victo- 
ries, as  great  men  ever  do,  by  wisely 
choosing  his  aides.  Hamilton  had  done 
yeoman's  service  in  every  branch  of  the 
government,  and  while  the  chief  sincerely 
admired  his  genius,  he  guessed  his  limi- 
tations. Power  grows  until  it  topples, 
252 


a;bonms  Jeffereoii 


and  when  it  topples,  innocent  people  are 
crushed.  Washington  was  wise  as  a  ser- 
pent, and  rather  than  risk  open  ruction 
with  Hamilton  by  personally  setting 
bounds,  he  invited  Jefferson  into  his 
cabinet,  and  the  acid  was  neutralized  to  a 
degree  where  it  could  be  safely  handled. 
Jefferson  had  just  returned  from  Paris 
with  his  beloved  daughter,  Martha.  He 
was  intending  soon  to  return  to  France 
and  study  social  science  at  close  range. 
Already  he  had  seen  that  uiob  of  women 
march  out  to  Versailles  and  fetch  the 
King  to  Paris,  and  had  seen  barricade 
after  barricade  erected  with  the  stones 
from  the  levelled  Bastile  ;  he  was  on  inti- 
mate and  affectionate  terms  with  Lafay- 
ette and  the  Republican  leaders,  and  here 
was  a  pivotal  point  in  his  life.  Had  not 
Washington  persuaded  him  to  remain 
"just  for  the  present"  in  America,  he 
might  have  played  a  part  in  Carlyle's  best 
book,  that  book  which  is  not  history,  but 
more — an  epic.  So,  among  the  many  ob- 
ligations that  America  owes  Washington, 
253 


G:bomas  S^efferson 


must  be  named  this  one  ot  pushing 
Thomas  Jeflferson,  the  scholar  and  man 
of  peace,  into  the  political  embroglio  and 
shutting  the  door.  Then  it  was  that 
Hamilton's  taunting  temper  awoke  a  de- 
gree of  power  in  Jefferson  that  before  he 
wist  not  of ;  then  it  was  that  he  first  fully 
realized  that  the  "United  States"  with 
England  as  a  sole  pattern  was  not 
enough. 

A  pivotal  point  !  Yes,  a  pivotal  point 
for  Jeflferson,  America,  and  the  world ; 
for  Jefferson  gave  the  rudder  of  the  ship 
of  state  such  a  turn  to  starboard  that 
there  was  never  again  danger  of  her 
drifting  on  to  aristocratic  shoals,  an  easy 
victim  to  the  rapacity  of  Great  Britain. 
Hamilton's  distrust  of  the  people  found 
no  echo  in  Jeflfersou's  mind. 

He  agreed  with  Hamilton  that  a 
"strong  government"  administered  by 
a  few,  provided  the  few  are  wise  and 
honorable,  is  the  best  possible  govern- 
ment. Nay,  he  went  further  and  de- 
clared that  an  absolute  monarchy  in 
254 


JTbomaa  3cffci'60n 


which  the  monarch  was  all-wise  and  all- 
powerful,  could  not  be  improved  upon  by 
the  imagination  of  man. 

In  his  composition  there  was  a  sav- 
ing touch  of  humor  that  both  Hamil- 
ton and  Washington  seemed  to  lack. 
He  could  smile  at  himself;  but  none 
ever  dared  turn  a  joke  on  Hamilton, 
much  less  on  Washington.  And  so  when 
Hamilton  explained  that  a  strong 
government  administered  by  Washing- 
ton, President  ;  Jefferson,  Secretary  of 
State  ;  Hamilton,  Secretary  of  the  Treas- 
ury ;  Knox,  Secretary  of  War  ;  and  Ran- 
dolph, Attorney-General,  was  pretty 
nearly  ideal,  no  one  smiled.  But  Jeffer- 
son's plain  inference  was  that  power  is 
dangerous  and  man  is  fallible  ;  that  a 
man  so  good  as  Washington  dies  to- 
morrow and  another  man  steps  in,  and 
that  those  who  have  the  government  in 
their  present  keeping  should  curb  ambi- 
tions, limit  their  own  power,  and  thus  fix 
a  precedent  for  those  who  are  to  follow. 

The  wisdom  that  Jefferson  as  a  states- 
255 


^bomae  5cflci'5on 


man  showed  in  working  for  a  future 
good,  and  the  willingness  to  forego  the 
pomp  of  personal  power,  to  sacrifice  self 
if  need  be,  that  the  day  he  should  not  see 
might  be  secure,  ranks  him  as  first  among 
statesmen.  For  a  statesman  is  one  who 
Vmilds  a  state  and  not  a  politician  who  is 
dead,  as  some  have  said. 

Others,  since,  have  followed  Jefferson's 
example,  but  in  the  world's  history,  I  do 
not  recall  a  man  before  him  who,  while 
still  having  power  in  his  grasp,  was  will- 
ing to  trust  the  people. 

The  one  mistake  of  Washington  that 
borders  on  blunder,  was  in  refusing  to 
take  wages  for  his  work.  In  doing  this 
he  visited  untold  misery  on  others,  who 
not  having  married  rich  widows,  tried  to 
follow  his  example  and  floundered  into 
woeful  debt  and  disgrace  ;  and  thereby 
were  lost  to  useful  society  and  the  world. 

And  there  are  yet  many  public  offices 

where   small  men   rattle    about  because 

men  who  can  fill  the  place  cannot  afford 

it.     Bryce  declares  that  no  able  and  hon- 

256 


dbomas  Jeffersojt 


est  man  of  moderate  means  can  aflford  to 
take  an  active  part  in  municipal  affairs  in 
America— and  Bryce  is  right. 

When  Jefferson  became  President,  in 
his  message  to  Congress  again  and  again 
he  advised  the  fixing  of  sufficient  salaries 
to  secure  the  best  men  for  every  branch 
of  the  service  ;  and  suggested  the  folly 
of  expecting  anything  for  nothing,  or 
the  hope  of  officials  not  "  fixing  things  " 
if  not  properly  paid. 

Men  from  the  soil  who  gain  power  are 
usually  intoxicated  by  it  ;  beginning  as 
democrats  they  evolve  into  aristocrats, 
then  into  tyrants,  if  kindly  fate  does  not 
interpose,  and  are  dethroned  by  the 
people  who  made  them.  And  it  is  not 
surprising  that  this  man,  born  into  a 
plenty  that  bordered  on  affluence,  and 
who  never  knew  from  experience  the 
necessity  of  economy,  (until  in  old  age 
tobacco  and  slavery  had  wrecked  Virginia 
and  Monticello  alike,)  should  set  an  al- 
most ideal  example  of  simplicity,  mod- 
eration, and  brotherly  kindness. 
257 


^bomas  Jefferson 


Among  the  chief  glories  that  belong  to 
him  are  these  : 

I.  Writing  the  Declaration  of  Indepen- 
dence. 

II.  Suggesting  and  carrying  out  the 
present  decimal  monetary  system. 

III.  Inducing  Virginia  to  deed  to  the 
States  as  their  common  property,  the 
North-West  Territory. 

IV.  Purchasing  from  France  for  the 
comparatively  trifling  sum  of  fifteen 
million  dollars  Louisiana  and  the  terri- 
tory running  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to 
Puget's  Sound,  being  at  the  rate  of  a 
fraction  of  a  cent  per  acre,  and  giving 
the  United  States  full  control  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi River. 

But  over  and  beyond  these  is  the  spirit 
of  patriotism  that  makes  each  true 
American  feel  he  is  parcel  and  part  of 
the  very  fabric  of  the  state,  and  in  his 
deepest  heart  believe  that  "a  govern- 
ment of  the  people,  by  the  people,  and 
for  the  people  shall  not  perish  from  the 
earth," 

258 


DANIEL  WEBSTEE 


559 


Not  many  days  ago  I  saw  at  breakfast  the 
notablestof  all  your  notabilities,  Daniel  Webster. 
He  is  a  magnificent  specimen.  You  might  say 
to  all  the  world,  "This  is  our  Yankee-English- 
man; such  links  we  make  in  Yankee  land!" 
As  a  logic  fencer,  advocate,  or  parliamentary 
Hercules,  one  would  incline  to  back  him  at  first 
sight  against  all  the  extant  world.  The  tanned 
complexion  ;  the  amorphous  crag-like  face ;  the 
dull  black  eyes  under  the  precipice  of  brows, 
like  dull  anthracite  furnaces  needing  only  to  be 
blown;  the  mastiff  mouth,  accurately  closed; 
I  have  not  traced  so  much  of  silent  Berserker 
rage  that  I  remember  of,  in  any  other  man.  "  I 
guess  I  should  not  like  to  be  your  nigger  !  " 

Carlyle  to  Emerson. 


260 


^^:z±)  ^:^^:^^-S^-^-^z^-^^^^^^:^ 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


THOSE  were  spleudid  days,  tinged 
with  no  trace  of  blue,  when  I 
attended  the  district-school,  wear- 
ing trousers  buttoned  to  a  calico  waist. 
I  had  ambitions  then— I  was  sure  that 
some  day  I  could  spell  down  the  school, 
propound  a  problem  in  fractions  that 
would  puzzle  the  teacher,  and  play 
checkers  in  a  way  that  would  cause  my 
name  to  be  known  throughout  the  eutire 
township. 

In  the  midst  of  these  pleasant  emotions 
a  cloud  appeared  upon  the  horizon  of  my 
happiness.      What    was    it?      A    Friday 
Afternoon,  that 's  all. 
261 


Daniel  TUaebstcr 


A  new  teacher  had  been  engaged — a 
woman,  actually  a  young  woman.  It 
was  prophesied  that  she  could  not  keep 
order  a  single  day,  for  the  term  before, 
the  big  boys  had  once  arisen  and  put  the 
man  who  taught  out  of  the  building. 
Then  there  was  a  boy  who  occasionally 
brought  a  dog  to  school,  and  when  the 
bell  rang  the  dog  followed  the  boy  into 
the  room  and  lay  under  the  desk  pound- 
ing his  tail  on  the  floor ;  and  everybody 
tittered  and  giggled  until  the  boy  had 
been  coaxed  into  taking  the  dog  home, 
for  if  merely  left  in  the  entry  he  howled 
and  whined  in  a  way  that  made  study  im- 
possible. But  one  day  the  boy  was  not 
to  be  coaxed,  and  the  teacher  grabbed  the 
dog  by  the  scruff"  of  the  neck,  and  flung 
him  through  a  window  so  forcibly  that 
he  never  came  back. 

And  now  a  woman  was  to  teach  the 
school  :  she  was  only  a  little  woman  and 
yet  the  boys  obeyed  her,  and  I  had  come 
to  think  that  a  woman  could  teach  school 
nearly  as  well  as  a  man,  when  the  awful 
262 


2>aniel  "WHcbster 


announcement  was  made  that  thereafter 
every  week  we  were  to  have  a  Friday 
Afternoon.  There  were  to  be  no  lessons  ; 
everybody  was  to  speak  a  piece,  and 
then  there  was  to  be  a  spelling  match, 
and  that  was  all.  But  heavens  !  it  was 
enough. 

Monday  began  very  blue  and  gloomy 
and  the  density  increased  as  the  week 
passed.  My  mother  had  drilled  me  well 
in  my  lines,  and  my  big  sister  was  lavish 
in  her  praise,  but  the  awful  ordeal  of 
standing  up  before  the  whole  school  was 
yet  to  come. 

Thursday  night  I  slept  but  little  and 
all  Friday  morning  I  was  in  a  burning 
fever.  At  noon  I  could  not  eat  my 
lunch,  but  I  tried  to,  manfully,  and  as 
I  munched  on  the  tasteless  morsels,  salt 
tears  rained  on  the  Johnny-cake  I  held 
in  my  hand.  And  even  when  the  girls 
brought  in  big  bunches  of  wild  flowers 
and  corn-stalks,  and  began  to  decorate 
the  platform,  things  appeared  no  brighter. 

Finally,  the  teacher  went  to  the  door 
263 


H)aniel  imebster 


and  raug  the  bell :  nobody  seemed  to 
play,  and  as  the  scholars  took  their  seats 
some,  very  pale,  tried  to  smile,  and  others 
whispered  "  Have  you  got  your  piece  ?  " 
Still  others  kept  their  lips  working,  re- 
peating lines  that  struggled  hard  to  flee. 

Names  were  called  but  I  did  not  see 
who  went  up,  neither  did  I  hear  what 
was  said.  At  last  my  name  was  called  : 
it  came  like  a  clap  of  thunder — as  a  great 
surprise,  a  shock.  I  clutched  the  desk, 
struggled  to  my  feet,  passed  down  the 
aisle,  the  sound  of  my  shoes  echoing 
through  the  silence  like  the  strokes  of 
a  mawl.  The  blood  seemed  ready  to 
burst  from  mj"  eyes,  ears,  and  nose. 

I  reached  the  platform,  missed  my 
footing,  stumbled,  and  nearly  fell.  I 
heard  the  giggling  that  followed,  and 
knew  that  a  red-haired  boy,  who  had 
just  spoken,  and  was  therefore  unneces- 
sarily jubilant,  had  laughed  aloud. 

I  was  angry.  I  shut  my  fists  so  that  the 
nails  cut  my  flesh,  and  glaring  straight  at 
his  red  bead  shot  my  bolt.  "  I  know  not 
264 


Daniel  Mebster 


how  others  may  feel,  but  sink  or  swim, 
live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I  give  my 
heart  and  my  hand  to  this  vote.  It  is  my 
living  sentiment  and  by  the  blessing  of 
God  it  shall  be  my  dying  sentiment.  In- 
dependence now,  and  independence  for- 
ever." 

That  was  all  of  the  piece — I  gave  the 
whole  thing  in  a  mouthful,  and  started 
for  my  seat,  got  half-way  there  and  re- 
membered I  had  forgotten  to  bow,  turned, 
went  back  to  the  platform,  bowed  with  a 
jerk,  started  again  for  my  seat,  and  hear- 
ing someone  laugh,  ran. 

Reaching  the  seat  I  burst  into  tears. 

The  teacher  came  over,  patted  my  head, 
kissed  my  cheek,  and  told  me  I  had  done 
first-rate,  and  after  hearing  several  others 
speak  I  calmed  down  and  quite  agreed 
with  her. 


265 


n. 


IT  was  Daniel  Webster  that  caused  the 
Friday  Afternoon  to  become  an  in- 
stitution in  the  schools  of  America. 
His  early  struggles  were  dwelt  upon  and 
rehearsed  by  parents  and  pedagogues  until 
every  boy  was  looked  upon  as  a  possible 
Demosthenes  holding  senates  in  thrall. 

If  physical  imperfections  were  notice- 
able, the  fond  mother  would  explain  that 
Demosthenes  was  a  sickly,  ill-formed 
youth,  who  only  overcame  a  lisp  by  orat- 
ing to  the  sea  with  his  mouth  full  of 
pebbles  ;  and  everyone  knew  that  Web- 
ster was  educated  only  because  he  was 
too  weak  to  work.  Oratory  was  in  the 
air  ;  elocution  was  rampant ;  and  to  de- 
claim in  orotund,  and  gesticulate  in 
curves  was  regarded  as  the  chief  end  of 
man.  One  tenth  of  the  time  in  all  pub- 
lic schools  was  given  over  to  speaking, 
266 


Daniel  "Wllcbster 


and'  on   Saturday  evenings,  the  school- 
house  was  sacred  to  the  Debating  Society. 

Then  came  the  Lyceum,  and  the  orators 
of  the  land  made  pilgrimages,  stopping 
one  day  in  a  place,  putting  themselves  on 
exhibition,  and  giving  the  people  a  taste 
of  their  quality  at  fifty  cents  per  head. 
Recently  there  has  been  a  relapse  of 
this  oratorical  fever.  Every  city  from 
Leadville  to  Boston  has  its  College  of 
Oratory,  or  School  of  Expression,  wherein 
a  newly  discovered  "  Natural  Method  "  is 
divulged  for  a  consideration.  Some  of 
these  "  Colleges  "  have  done  much  good  ; 
one  in  particular  I  know,  that  fosters  a 
fine  spirit  of  sympathy,  and  a  trace  of 
mysticism  that  is  well  iu  these  hurrying, 
scurrying  days. 

But  all  combined  have  never  produced 
an  orator;  no,  dearie,  they  never  have, 
and  never  can.  You  might  as  well  have 
a  school  for  poets,  or  a  college  for  saints, 
or  give  medals  for  proficiency  in  the  gen- 
tle art  of  wooing,  as  to  expect  to  make 
an  orator  by  telling  how. 
267 


Banicl  "Wacbster 


Once  upon  a  day,  Sir  Walter  Besant 
was  to  give  a  lecture  upon  "  The  Art  of 
the  Novelist."  He  had  just  adjusted  his 
necktie  for  the  last  time,  slipped  a  loz- 
enge into  his  mouth,  and  was  about  to 
appear  upon  the  platform,  when  he  felt  a 
tug  at  the  tail  of  his  dress-coat.  On  look- 
ing around,  he  saw  the  anxious  face  of 
his  friend,  James  Payn.  "  For  God's 
sake,  Walter,"  whispered  Payn,  "  )-ou 
are  not  going  to  explain  to  'em  how  }-ou 
do  it,  are  you?"  But  Walter  did  not 
explain  how  to  write  fiction,  because  he 
could  not,  and  Payn's  quizzing  question 
happily  relieved  the  lecture  of  the  bump- 
tiousness that  it  might  otherwise  have 
contained. 

The  first  culture  for  which  a  people 
reach  out  is  oratory.  The  Indian  is  an 
orator  with  "the  natural  method";  he 
takes  the  stump  on  small  provocation, 
and  under  the  spell  of  the  faces  that 
look  up  to  him,  is  often  moved  to  strange 
eloquence.  I  have  heard  negro  preach- 
ers who  could  neither  read  nor  write 
268 


©aiucl  "MeljBter 


move  vast  congregations  to  profoundest 
emotion  by  the  magic  of  their  words  and 
presence.  And  further,  they  proved  to 
me  that  ability  to  read  and  write  are 
cheap  accomplishments,  and  that  a  man 
can  be  a  very  strong  character,  and  not 
know  how  to  do  either. 

For  the  most  part,  people  who  live  in 
cities  are  not  moved  by  oratory  ;  they  are 
unsocial,  unimaginative,  unemotional. 
They  see  so  much  and  hear  so  much  that 
they  cease  to  be  impressed.  When  they 
come  together  in  assemblages  they  are  so 
apathetic  that  they  fail  to  generate  mag- 
netism,— there  is  no  common  soul  to 
•which  the  speaker  can  address  himself. 
They  are  so  cold  that  the  orator  never 
welds  them  into  a  mass.  He  may  amuse 
them,  but  in  a  single  hour  to  change  the 
opinions  of  a  lifetime  is  no  longer  possi- 
ble in  America.  There  are  so  many  peo- 
ple, and  so  much  business  to  transact, 
that  emotional  life  plays  only  upon  the 
surface — in  it  there  is  no  depth.  To  pos- 
sess depth  you  must  commune  with  the 
269 


Daniel  TllJlebster 


Silences.  No  more  do  you  find  men  and 
women  coming  for  fifty  miles,  in  wagons, 
to  hear  speakers  discuss  political  issues  ; 
no  more  do  you  find  camp-meetings 
where  the  preacher  strikes  conviction 
home  until  thousands  are  on  their  knees 
crying  to  God  for  mercy. 

Intelligence  has  increased  ;  spirituality 
has  declined,  and  as  a  people  the  warm 
emotions  of  our  hearts  are  gone  forever. 

Oratory  is  a  rustic  product.  The  great 
orators  have  always  been  country-bred, 
and  their  appeal  has  been  made  to  rural 
people.  Those  who  live  in  a  big  place 
think  they  are  bigger  on  that  account. 
They  acquire  glibness  of  speech  and  pol- 
ish of  manner ;  but  they  purchase  these 
things  at  a  price.  They  lack  the  power 
to  weigh  mighty  questions,  the  courage  to 
formulate  them,  and  the  sturdy  vitality 
to  stand  up  and  declare  them  in  the  face 
of  opposition.  Revolutions  are  fought 
by  farmers  and  rail-splitters  ;  these  are 
the  embattled  men  who  fire  the  shots 
heard  'round  the  world. 
270 


Daniel  Timebster 


When  Daniel  Webster's  father  took  up 
his  residence  in  New  Hampshire,  his  log 
cabin  was  the  most  northern  one  of  the 
colonies.  Between  him  and  Montreal  lay 
an  unbroken  forest  inhabited  only  by 
prowling  Indians.  Ebenezer  Webster's 
long  rifle  had  sent  cold  lead  into  many  a 
red-skin  ;  and  the  same  rifle  had  done 
good  service  in  fighting  the  British. 
Once,  its  owner  stood  guard  before  Wash- 
ington's Headquarters  at  Newburgh,  and 
Washington  came  out  and  said  :  "  Captain 
Webster,  I  can  trust  you  !  " 

Ebenezer  Webster  would  leave  his 
home  to  carry  a  bag  of  corn  on  his  back 
through  the  woods  to  the  mill  ten  miles 
away  to  have  it  ground  into  meal,  and  his 
wife  would  be  left  alone  with  the  children. 
On  such  occasions,  Indians  who  never 
saw  settlers'  cabins  without  having  an 
itch  to  burn  them,  used  sometimes  to  call, 
and  the  housewife  would  have  to  parley 
with  these  savages,  "impressing  them 
concerning  the  rights  of  property." 

So  here  was  born  Daniel  Webster  in 
271 


Daniel  "Mcbetct 

1782,  the  second  child  of  his  mother. 
His  father  was  then  forty-three  ;  and  had 
already  raised  one  brood,  but  his  mother 
was  only  in  her  twenties.  It  seems  that 
biting  poverty  and  sore  deprivation  are 
about  as  good  pre-natal  influences  as  a 
soul  can  well  ask,  provided  there  abides 
with  the  mother  a  noble  discontent  and 
a  brave  unrest.  However,  it  came  near 
being  overdone  in  Daniel  Webster's  case, 
for  the  Mrs.  Gamp  who  presided  at  his 
birth  declared  he  could  not  live,  and  if 
he  did,  would  "alius  be  a  no  'count." 

But  he  made  a  brave  fight  for  breath, 
and  his  crossness  and  peevishness  through 
the  first  few  years  of  his  life  were  proof 
of  vitality.  He  must  have  been  a  queer 
toddler  when  he  wore  dresses,  with  his 
immense  head  and  deep-set  black  eyes 
and  serious  ways. 

Being  sickly,  he  was  allowed  to  rule, 
and  the  big  girls,  his  half-sisters,  hu- 
mored him  and  his  mother  did  the  same. 
They  taught  him  his  letters  when  he  was 
only  a  baby,  and  he  himself  said  that  he 


2)aniel  TIQlcbstct 


could  not  remember  a  time  when  he  could 
not  read  the  Bible. 

When  he  grew  older  he  did  not  have  to 
bring  in  wood  and  do  the  chores — he  was 
not  strong  enough,  they  said.  Little  Dan 
was  of  a  like  belief,  and  encouraged  the 
idea  on  every  occasion.  He  roamed  the 
woods,  fished,  hunted,  and  read  every 
scrap  of  print  that  came  his  way. 

Being  able  to  read  any  kind  of  print, 
and  not  being  strong  enough  to  work,  it 
very  early  was  decided  that  he  should 
have  an  education.  It  is  rather  a  hum- 
bling confession  to  make,  but  our  worthy 
forefathers  chiefly  prized  an  education  for 
the  fact  that  it  caused  the  fortunate  pos- 
sessor to  be  exempt  from  manual  labor. 

When  Daniel  was  fourteen,  a  member 
of  Congress  came  to  see  Ebenezer  Web- 
ster, to  secure  his  influence  at  election. 
As  the  great  man  rode  away  Ebenezer 
said  to  his  son  :  "  Daniel,  look  there  !  he 
is  educated  and  gets  six  dollars  a  day  in 
Congress  for  doing  nothing  ;  while  I  toil 
on  this  rocky  hillside  and  hardly  see  six 
273 


Daniel  TSUebstcc 


dollars  in  a  year.  Daniel  get  an  educa- 
tion !  " 

"I'll  do  it,"  said  Daniel,  and  throw- 
ing his  arms  around  his  father's  neck, 
burst  into  tears. 

The  village  of  Salisbury,  where  Web- 
ster was  born,  is  fifteen  miles  north  of 
Concord.  You  leave  the  train  at  Bosco- 
wan,  and  there  is  a  rickety  old  stage, 
with  a  loquacious  driver,  that  will  take 
you  to  Salisbury,  five  miles,  for  twenty- 
five  cents.  The  country  is  one  vast  out- 
crop of  granite ;  and  one  cannot  but  be 
filled  with  admiration,  mingled  with  pity, 
for  the  dwellers  thereabouts  who  call 
these  piles  of  rock  "farms." 

As  we  wound  slowly  around  the  hills, 
the  church-spire  of  the  village  came  in 
sight ;  and  soon  we  entered  the  one  street 
of  this  sleepy,  forgotten  place.  I  shook 
hands  with  the  old  stage-driver  as  he  let 
me  down  in  front  of  the  tavern  ;  and  as  I 
went  in  search  of  the  landlord,  I  thought 
of  the  remark  of  the  Chicago  woman  who, 
in  riding  from  Warwick  over  to  Stratford, 
274 


Baniel  Webster 


said  :  "  Goodness  me  !  why  should  a  man 
like  Shakespeare  ever  take  it  in  his  head 
to  live  so  far  off!  " 

Salisbury  has  four  hundred  people.  You 
can  rent  a  house  there  for  $50  a  year,  or 
should  you  prefer  not  to  keep  house,  but 
board,  you  can  be  accommodated  at  the 
tavern  for  $3  a  week.  There  are  various 
abandoned  farms  roundabout,  and  they 
are  so  thorougly  abandoned  that  even 
Kate  Sanborn  would  not  have  the  courage 
to  their  adoption  try. 

The  landlord  of  the  hotel  told  me  that 
were  it  not  for  the  "  Harvest  Dance,"  the 
dance  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  and  the  party 
at  Christmas,  he  could  not  keep  the  house 
open  at  all. 

Of  course  all  the  inhabitants  know  that 
Webster  was  born  at  Salisbury,  but  there 
is  not  so  much  local  pride  in  the  matter 
as  there  is  at  East  Aurora  over  the  fact 
that  one  of  her  former  citizens  is  a  per- 
former in  Barnum  &  Bailey's  Circus. 

The  number  of  old  men  in  one  of  these 
New   England   villages    impresses   folks 


2)aniel  "Mebster 


from  the  West  as  being  curious.  There 
are  a  full  dozen  men  at  Salisbury  between 
seventy-five  and  ninety,  and  all  have 
positive  ideas  as  to  just  why  Daniel  Web- 
ster missed  the  presidency.  I  found  opin- 
ions curiously  divided  as  to  Webster's 
ability ;  but  all  seemed  to  argue  that 
when  he  left  New  Hampshire  and  became 
a  citizen  of  Massachusetts,  he  made  a 
fatal  mistake. 


276 


III. 

THE  sacrifices  that  the  mother  and 
father  of  Daniel  Webster  made,  in 
order  that  he  might  go  to  school, 
were  very  great.  Everyone  in  the  family 
had  to  do  without  things,  that  this  one 
might  thrive.  The  boy  accepted  it  all, 
quite  as  a  matter  of  course,  for  from  baby- 
hood he  had  been  protected  and  petted. 
At  the  last  we  must  admit  that  the  man 
who  towers  above  his  fellows  is  the  one 
who  has  the  power  to  make  others  work 
for  him  ;  a  great  success  is  not  possible 
in  any  other  way. 

Throughout  his  life  Webster  utilized 
the  labor  of  others,  and  took  it  in  a  high 
and  imperious  manner,  as  though  it  were 
his  due.  No  doubt  the  way  in  which  his 
family  lavished  their  gifts  upon  him, 
fixed  in  his  mind  thai,  immoral  slant  of 
277 


Daiitel  Mcbster 


disregard   for    his    financial    obligations 
which  clung  to  him  all  through  life. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  his  going  to 
a  county  fair  with  his  brother  Ezekiel, 
which  shows  the  characters  of  these 
brothers  better  than  a  chapter.  The 
father  had  given  each  lad  a  dollar  to 
spend.  When  the  boys  got  home  Dan- 
iel was  in  gay  spirits  and  Ezekiel  was 
depressed.  "  Well,  Dan,"  said  the  father, 
"  did  you  spend  your  money  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did,"  replied  Daniel. 

"  And,  Zeke,  what  did  you  do  with 
your  dollar  ?  " 

"  Loaned  it  to  Dan,"  replied  Ezekiel. 

But  there  was  a  fine  bond  of  affection 
between  these  two.  Ezekiel  was  two 
years  older  and,  unfortunately  for  him- 
self, was  strong  and  well.  He  was  very 
early  set  to  work,  and  I  cannot  find  that 
the  thought  of  giving  him  an  education 
ever  occurred  to  his  parents,  until  after 
Daniel  had  graduated  at  Dartmouth,  and 
Dan  and  Zeke  themselves  then  forced  the 
issue. 

278 


STATUE  OF  WEBSTER,   Central  Park,  New  York. 


Daniel  TKIlebstct 


In  stature  they  were  the  same  size: 
both  were  tall,  finely  formed,  and  in 
youth  slender.  As  they  grew  older  they 
grew  stouter,  and  the  personal  presence 
of  each  was  very  imposing.  Ezekiel  was 
of  light  complexion  and  ruddy  ;  Daniel 
was  very  dark  and  sallow.  I  have  met 
several  men  who  knew  them  both,  and 
the  best  opinion  is  that  Ezekiel  was 
the  stronger  of  the  two,  mentally  and 
morally. 

Daniel  was  not  a  student  ;  Ezekiel  was ; 
and  as  a  counsellor  Ezekiel  was  the  safer 
man.  Up  to  the  very  week  of  Ezekiel's 
death  Daniel  advised  with  him  on  all  of 
his  important  aflfairs.  When  Ezekiel  fell 
dead  in  the  court-room  at  Concord  and 
the  news  was  carried  to  his  brother,  it 
was  a  blow  that  aflfected  him  more  than 
the  loss  of  wife  or  child.  His  friend 
and  counsellor,  the  one  man  in  life  upon 
whom  he  leaned,  was  gone,  and  over  his 
own  great  crag-like  face  came  that  look 
of  sorrow  which  death  only  removed. 
But  care  and  grief  became  this  giant,  as 
279 


2)aniel  Mebster 


they  do  all  who  are  great  enough  to  bear 
them. 

It  was  two  years  after  his  brother's 
death  that  he  made  the  speech  which  is 
his  masterpiece.  And  while  the  applause 
was  ringing  in  his  ears  he  turned  to 
Judge  Story  and  said  :  "  Oh,  if  Zeke 
were  only  here  !  "  Who  is  there  that 
cannot  sympathize  with  that  groan  ?  We 
work  for  others,  and  to  win  the  applause 
of  senates  or  nations,  and  not  be  able  to 
know  that  Someone  is  glad,  takes  all  the 
sweetness  out  of  victory. 

"  When  I  sing  well  I  want  you  to  meet 
me  in  the  wings  of  the  stage,  and  taking 
me  in  your  arms,  kiss  my  cheek,  and 
whisper  it  was  all  right."  When  Patti 
wrote  this  to  her  lover  she  voiced  the 
universal  need  of  a  someone  who  under- 
stands to  share  the  triumph  of  good  work 
well  done.  The  nostalgia  of  life  never 
seems  so  bitter  as  after  moments  of  suc- 
cess ;  then  comes  creeping  in  the  thought 
that  he  who  would  have  gloried  in  this — 
knowing  all  the  years  of  struggle  and 
280 


2)aniel  IWcbster 


deprivations  that  made  it  possible — is 
sleeping  bis  long  sleep. 

In  tbat  speecb  of  January  26,  1830, 
Webster  reached  high-water  mark.  On 
that  performance  more  than  any  other 
rests  his  fame.  He  was  forty-eight  3'ears 
old  then.  All  the  years  of  his  career  he 
had  been  getting  ready  for  that  address. 
It  was  on  the  one  theme  that  he  loved  ; 
on  the  theme  he  had  studied  most ;  on  the 
only  theme  upon  which  he  ever  spoke 
well — the  greatness,  the  grandeur,  and 
the  possibilities  of  America.  He  spoke 
for  four  hours,  and  in  his  works  the 
speech  occupies  seventy  close  pages.  He 
was  at  the  zenith  of  his  physical  and  in- 
tellectual power,  and  that  is  as  good  a 
place  as  any  to  stop  and  view  the  man. 

On  account  of  his  proud  carriage,  and 
the  fine  poise  of  his  massive  head,  he  gave 
the  impression  of  being  a  very  large  man; 
but  he  was  just  five  feet  ten,  and  weighed 
a  little  less  than  two  hundred.  His  man- 
ner was  grave,  deliberate,  and  dignified  ; 
and  his  sturdy  face,  furrowed  with  lines  of 
28x 


2>antcl  Mebster 


sorrow,  made  a  profound  impression  upon 
all  before  he  had  spoken  a  word.  He  had 
arrived  at  an  age  when  the  hot  desire  to 
succeed  had  passed.  For  no  man  can  at- 
tain the  highest  success  until  he  has 
reached  a  point  where  he  does  not  care 
for  it.  In  oratory  the  personal  desire  for 
victory  must  be  obliterated  or  the  hearer 
will  never  award  the  palm. 

Hayne  was  a  very  bright  and  able 
speaker.  He  had  argued  the  right  of  a 
State  to  dissent  from,  or  nullify  a  law 
passed  by  the  House  of  Representatives 
and  Senate,  making  such  law  inoperative 
within  its  borders.  His  claim  was  that  the 
framers  of  the  Constitution  did  not  expect, 
or  intend  that  a  law  could  be  passed  that 
was  binding  on  a  State  when  the  people  of 
that  State  did  not  wish  it  so.  Mr.  Hayne 
had  the  best  end  of  the  argument,  and 
the  opinion  is  now  general  among  jurists 
that  his  logic  was  right  and  just,  and  that 
those  who  thought  otherwise  were  wrong. 
New  England  had  practically  nullified 
United  States  law  in  1812  :  the  Hartford 
282 


Daniel  TKIlebetcr 


Convention  of  1814  had  declared  the 
right ;  Josiah  Quincy  had  advocated  the 
privilege  of  any  State  to  nullify  an  ob- 
noxious law,  quite  as  a  matter  of  course. 
The  framers  of  the  Constitution  had 
merely  said  we  better  hang  together,  not 
we  must.  But  with  the  years  had  come 
a  feeling  that  the  Nation's  life  was  unsafe 
if  any  State  should  pull  away. 

Once,  on  the  plains  of  Colorado,  I  was 
with  a  party  when  there  was  danger  of 
an  attack  from  Indians.  Two  of  the 
party  wished  to  go  back  ;  but  the  leader 
drew  his  revolver  and  threatened  to  shoot 
the  first  man  who  tried  to  seek  safety. 
"We  must  hang  together  or  hang  sep- 
arately." Logically,  each  man  had  the 
right  to  secede,  and  go  off  on  his  own  ac- 
count, but  expediency  made  a  law  and 
we  declared  that  any  man  who  tried  to 
leave  did  so  at  his  peril. 

To  Webster  was  given  the  task  of  put- 
ting a  new  construction  on  the  Constitu- 
tion, and  to  make  of  the  Constitution  a 
Law  instead  of  a  mere  compact.  Web- 
283 


S)aniel  limcbster 


ster's  speech  was  not  an  argument ;  it 
was  a  plea.  And  so  mightily  did  he  point 
out  the  dangers  of  separation  ;  review 
the  splendid  past  ;  and  prophesy  the 
greatness  of  the  future — a  future  that 
could  only  be  ours  through  absolute 
union  and  loyalty  to  the  good  of  the 
whole — that  he  won  his  cause. 

After  that  speech,  if  Calhoun  had  al- 
lowed South  Carolina  to  nullify  a  United 
States  law,  President  Jackson  would  have 
made  good  his  threat  and  hanged  both 
him  and  Hayne  on  one  tree,  and  the  peo- 
ple would  have  approved  the  act. 

But  Webster  did  not  get  the  case 
quashed,  he  got  only  a  postponement. 
In  i860,  South  Carolina  moved  the  case 
again ;  she  opened  the  argument  in  an- 
other way  this  time,  and  a  million  lives 
were  required,  and  millions  upon  millions 
in  treasure  expended  to  put  a  construc- 
tion on  the  Constitution  that  the  framers 
did  not  intend  ;  but  which  was  necessary 
in  order  that  the  Nation  might  exist. 

In  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  almost  the 
284 


Daniel  TKUcbster 


first  battle  of  the  war,  fell  Colonel 
Fletcher  Webster,  the  only  surviving  son 
of  Daniel  Webster,  and  with  him  died 
the  name  and  race. 


iii 


IV. 

THE  cunning  of  Webster's  intellect 
was  not  creative.  In  his  argu- 
ment there  is  little  ingenuity  ; 
but  he  had  the  power  of  taking  an  old 
truth  and  presenting  it  in  a  way  that 
moved  men  to  tears.  When  aroused,  all 
he  knew  was  within  his  reach  ;  he  had  the 
faculty  of  getting  all  of  his  goods  in  the 
front  window.  And  he  himself  confessed 
that  he  often  pushed  out  a  masked  bat- 
tery, when  behind  there  was  not  a  single 
gun. 

Under  the  spell  of  the  orator  an  audi- 
ence becomes  of  one  mind  :  the  dullest 
intellect  is  more  alert  than  usual  and  the 
most  discerning  a  little  less  so.  Cheap 
wit  will  then  often  pass  for  brilliancy,  and 
platitude  for  wisdom.  We  roar  over  the 
jokes  we  have  known  since  childhood 
286 


Daniel  Timebster 


and  cry  "Hear,  hear!"  when  the  great 
man  with  upraised  hands  and  fire  in  his 
glance  declares  that  twice  two  are  four. 

Oratory  is  hypnotism  practised  on  a 
large  scale.  Through  oratory  ideas  are 
acquired  by  induction. 

Webster  was  a  lawyer;  and  he  was  not 
above  resorting  to  any  trick  or  device  that 
could  move  the  emotions  or  passions  of 
judge  and  jury  to  a  prejudice  favorable 
to  his  side.  This  was  very  clearly  brought 
out  when  he  undertook  to  break  the  will 
of  Stephen  Girard.  Girard  was  a  free- 
thinker, and  in  leaving  money  to  found 
a  college,  devised  that  no  preacher  or 
priest  should  have  anything  to  do  with 
its  management.  The  question  at  issue 
was,  "  Is  a  bequest  for  founding  a  college 
a  charitable  bequest?"  If  so  then  the 
will  must  stand.  But  if  the  bequest  was 
merely  a  scheme  to  deprive  the  legal  heirs 
of  their  rights — diverting  the  funds  from 
them  for  whimsical  and  personal  reasons 
—then  the  will  should  be  broken.  Mr. 
Webster  made  the  plea  that  there  was 
287 


Daniel  Wicbetex 


only  one  kind  of  charity,  namely  :  Chris- 
tian charity.  Girard  was  not  a  Christian, 
for  he  had  publicly  affronted  the  Christian 
religion  by  providing  that  no  minister 
should  teach  in  his  school.  Mr.  Webster 
spoke  for  three  hours  with  many  fine 
bursts  of  tearful  eloquence  in  support 
of  the  Christian  faith,  reviewing  its  tri- 
umphs and  denouncing  its  foes.  The 
argument  was  carried  outside  of  the 
realm  of  law  into  the  domain  of  passion 
and  prejudice. 

The  court  took  time  for  the  tumult  to 
subside,  and  then  very  quietly  decided 
against  Webster,  sustaining  the  will. 
The  college  building  was  erected  and 
stands  to-day,  the  finest  specimen  of 
purely  Greek  architecture  in  America : 
and  the  good  that  Girard  College  has 
done  and  is  now  doing  is  the  priceless 
heritage  of  our  entire  country. 

One  of  Webster's  first  greatest  speeches 

was   before   the  United   States   Supreme 

Court   in    the   Dartmouth  College  case. 

Here  he  defended  the  cause  of  education 

288 


S)aniel  THUebster 


with  that  grave  and  wonderful  weight  of 
argument  of  which  he  was  master.  In 
the  Girard  College  case,  eighteen  years 
after,  he  reversed  his  logic,  and  touched 
with  rare  skill  on  the  dangers  of  a  too- 
liberal  education. 

No  man  now  is  quite  so  daring  as  to 
claim  that  Webster  was  a  Christian. 
Neither  was  he  a  free-thinker.  He  in- 
herited his  religious  views  from  his  par- 
ents, and  never  considered  them  enough 
to  change.  He  simply  viewed  religion 
as  a  part  of  the  fabric  of  government : 
giving  sturdiness  and  safety  to  estab- 
lished order.  His  own  spiritual  acreage 
was  left  absolutely  untilled.  His  services 
were  for  sale  ;  and  so  plastic  were  his 
convictions  that  once  having  espoused  a 
cause  he  was  sure  it  was  right.  Doubt- 
less it  is  self-interest,  as  Herbert  Spencer 
says,  that  makes  the  world  go  'round. 
And  thus  does  sincerity  of  belief  resolve 
itself  into  which  side  will  pay  most. 
This  question  being  settled,  reasons  are 
as  plentiful  as  blackberries,  and  are  sup- 
289 


Daniel  "QClebster 


plied  in  quantities  proportional  in  size  to 
the  retainer. 

John  Randolph  once  touched  the  quick 
by  saying  :  "  If  Daniel  Webster  was  em- 
ployed on  a  case  and  he  had  partially 
lost  faith  in  it,  his  belief  in  his  client's 
rights  could  always  be  refreshed  and  his 
zeal  renewed  by  a  cheque." 

Webster  had  every  possible  qualifica- 
tion that  is  required  to  make  the  great 
orator.  All  those  who  heard  him  speak, 
when  telling  of  it,  begin  by  relating  how 
he  looked.  He  worked  the  dignity  and 
impressiveness  of  his  Jove-like  presence 
to  its  farthest  limit,  and  when  once  thor- 
oughly awake  was  in  possession  of  his 
entire  armament. 

No  other  American  has  been  able  to 
speak  with  a  like  degree  of  effectiveness  ; 
and  his  name  deserves  to  rank,  and  will 
rank,  with  the  names  of  Burke,  Chatham, 
Sheridan,  and  Pitt.  The  case  has  been 
tried,  the  verdict  is  in  and  recorded  on 
the  pages  of  history.  There  can  be  no  re- 
trial, for  Webster  is  dead,  and  his  power 
290 


Daniel  TlOlebstcr 


died  thirty  years  before  his  form  was  laid 
to  rest  at  Marshfield  by  the  side  of  his 
children  and  the  wife  of  his  youth. 

Oratory  is  the  lowest  of  the  sublime 
arts.  The  extent  of  its  influence  will 
ever  be  a  vexed  question.  Its  result  de- 
pends on  the  mood  and  temperament  of 
the  hearer.  But  there  are  men  who  are 
not  ripe  for  treason  and  conspiracy,  to 
whom  even  music  makes  small  appeal. 
Yet  music  can  be  recorded,  entrusted  to 
an  interpreter  yet  unborn  and  lodge  its 
appeal  with  posterity.  Literature  never 
dies  :  it  dedicates  itself  to  Time.  For  the 
printed  page  is  reproduced  ten  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  times  and  besides, 
lives  as  did  the  Homeric  poems,  passed 
on  from  generation  to  generation  by  word 
of  mouth.  Were  every  book  containing 
Shakespeare's  plays  burned  this  night, 
to-morrow  they  could  be  rewritten  by 
those  who  know  their  every  word. 

With  the  passing  years  the  painter's 
colors  fade  ;  time  rots  his  canvas  ;  the 
marble  is  dragged  from  its  pedestal  and 
291 


Daniel  Tlillebstcr 


exists  in  fragments  from  which  we  resur- 
rect a  nation's  life,  but  oratory  dies  on  the 
air  and  exists  only  as  a  memory  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  cannot  translate,  and 
then  as  hearsay.  So  much  for  the  art 
itself ;  but  the  influence  of  that  art  is  an- 
other thing.  He  who  influences  the  be- 
liefs and  opinions  of  men,  influences  all 
other  men  that  live  after.  For  influence 
like  matter  cannot  be  destroyed. 

In  many  ways  Webster  lacked  the 
inward  steadfastness  that  his  face  and 
frame  betokened ;  but  on  one  theme  he 
was  sound  to  the  inmost  core.  He  be- 
lieved in  America's  greatness,  and  the 
grandeur  of  America's  mission.  Into  the 
minds  of  countless  men  he  infused  his 
own  splendid  patriotism.  From  his  first 
speech  at  Hanover  when  eighteen  years 
old,  to  his  last  when  nearly  seventy,  he 
fired  the  hearts  of  men  with  the  love  of 
native-knd.  And  how  much  the  growing 
greatness  of  our  country  is  due  to  the 
magic  of  his  words  and  the  eloquence  of 
his  inspired  presence  no  man  can  compute. 
292 


Daniel  Mebster 


The  passion  of  Webster's  life  is  well 
mirrored  in  that  burning  passage,  "  When 
my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold  for 
the  last  time  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I 
not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and 
dishonored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious 
Union  :  on  States  dissevered,  discordant, 
belligerent :  on  a  land  rent  with  civil 
feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be  in  fraternal 
blood.  Let  their  last  feeble  and  linger- 
ing glance  rather  behold  the  gorgeous 
ensign  of  the  Republic,  now  known  and 
honored  thoughout  the  earth,  still  full 
high  advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies 
streaming  in  their  original  lustre,  not  a 
stripe  erased  or  polluted,  or  a  single  star 
obscured,  bearing  for  its  motto  no  such 
miserable  interrogatory  as  '  What  is  all 
this  worth  ? '  nor  those  other  words  of 
delusion  and  folly,  '  Liberty  first  and 
Union  afterwards  '  ;  but  everywhere, 
spread  all  over  in  characters  of  living 
light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as 
they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the  land, 
and  in  every  wind  under  the  whole 
293 


Daniel  "QQlebstcr 


heavens,  that  other  sentiment,  dear  to 
every  true  American  heart,  '  Liberty  and 
Union,  now  and  forever,  one  and  in- 
separable.' " 


294 


HENRY  CLAY 


295 


If  there  be  any  description  of  rights,  which, 
more  than  any  other,  should  unite  all  parties  in 
all  quarters  cf  the  Union,  it  is  unquestionably  the 
rights  of  the  person.  No  matter  what  his  voca- 
tion, whether  he  seeks  subsistence  amid  the 
dangers  of  the  sea,  or  draws  it  from  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  or  from  the  humblest  occupations  of 
mechanical  life— wherever  the  sacred  rights  of  an 
American  freeman  are  assailed,  all  hearts  ought 
to  unite  and  every  arm  be  braced  to  vindicate  his 
cause. 

Speech  in  Congress. 


296 


HENRY   CLAY. 


THERE  is  a  story  told  of  an  Irishman 
aud  an  Englishman  who  were 
emigrants  aboard  of  a  ship  that 
was  coming  up  New  York  Harbor.  It 
chanced  to  be  the  fourth  day  of  July,  and 
as  a  consequence  there  was  a  needless 
waste  of  gunpowder  going  on,  and  many 
of  the  ships  were  decorated  with  bunting 
that  in  color  was  red,  white,  and  blue. 

"What  can  all  this  fuss  be   about . J"  " 
asked  the  Englishman. 

"What's   it   about?"    answered   Pat. 

"  Why,  this  is  the  day  we  run  you  out !  " 

And  the  moral  of  the  story  is  that  as 

soon  as  an  Irishman  reaches  the  Narrows 

297 


he  says  "we  Americans,"  while  an  Eng- 
lishman will  sometimes  continue  to  say 
"you  Americans"  for  five  years  and  a 
day.  More  than  this,  an  Irish-American 
citizen  regards  an  English-American  citi- 
zen with  suspicion  and  refers  to  him  as  a 
foreigner,  even  unto  the  third  and  fourth 
generation. 

No  man  ever  hated  England  more  cor- 
dially than  Henr>'  Clay. 

The  genealogists  have  put  forth  heroic 
efforts  to  secure  for  Clay  a  noble  English 
ancestry,  but  with  a  degree  of  success 
that  only  makes  the  unthinking  laugh 
and  the  judicious  grieve.  Had  these  zeal- 
ous pedigree  hunters  studied  the  parish 
registers  of  County  Derry,  Ireland,  as 
lovingly  as  they  have  Burke's  Peerage, 
they  might  have  traced  the  Clays  of 
America  back  to  the  Cleighs,  honest 
farmers  (indifferent  honest)  of  London- 
derry, 

The  character  of  Henry  Clay  had  in  it 
various  traits  that  were  peculiarly  Irish. 
The  Irishman  knows  because  he  knows, 
298 


Ibenrg  Clae 

and  that 's  all  there  is  about  it.  He  is 
dramatic,  emotional,  impulsive,  humor- 
ous without  suspecting  it,  and  will  fight 
friend  or  foe  on  small  provocation.  Then 
he  is  much  given  to  dealing  in  that  pe- 
culiar article  known  as  palaver.  The 
farewell  address  of  Henry  Clay  to  the 
Senate,  and  his  return  thereto  a  few  years 
later,  comprise  one  of  the  most  Irish-like 
proceedings  to  be  found  in  history. 

There  is  no  finer  man  on  earth  than 
your  "thrue  Irish  gintleman,"  and  Henry 
Clay  had  not  only  all  of  the  highest  and 
most  excellent  traits  of  the  "  gintleman  " 
but  a  few  of  his  worst.  Clay  made  friends 
as  no  other  American  statesman  ever  did. 
"To  come  within  reach  of  the  snare  of 
his  speech  was  to  love  him,"  wrote  one 
man.  People  loved  him  because  he  was 
aflFectionate,  for  love  only  goes  out  to  love. 
And  the  Irish  heart  is  a  heart  of  love. 
Henry  Clay  called  himself  a  Christian, 
and  yet  at  times  he  was  picturesquely 
profane.  We  have  this  on  the  authority 
of  the  Diary  of  John  Quincy  Adams, 
299 


which  of  course  we  must  believe,  for  even 
that  other  fighting  Irishman,  Andrew 
Jackson,  said,  "  Adams'  Diary  is  probably 
correct — damn  it !  " 

Clay  was  convivial  in  all  the  word  im- 
plies ;  his  losses  at  cards  often  put  him 
in  severe  financial  straits  ;  he  stood  ready 
to  back  his  opinion  concerning  a  Presi- 
dential election,  a  horse  race,  or  a  dog 
fight,  and  with  it  all  he  held  himself  ' '  per- 
sonally responsible" — having  fought  two 
duels  and  engaged  in  various  minor  "mis- 
understandings." 

And  yet  he  was  a  great  statesman — one 
of  the  greatest  this  country  has  produced, 
and  as  a  patriot  no  man  was  ever  more 
loyal.  It  was  America  with  him  first  and 
always.  His  reputation,  his  fortune,  his 
life,  his  all   belonged  to  America. 


300 


II. 


THE  city  of  Lexington  contains  about 
twenty-five  thousand  inhabitants. 
In  Lexington  two  distinct  forms 
of  civilization  meet. 

One  is  the  civilization  of  the  F.  F.  V., 
converted  into  that  peculiar  form  of  no- 
blesse known  the  round  world  over  as  the 
Blue-Grass  Aristocracy.  Blue-Grass  So- 
ciety represents  leisure  and  luxury  and  the 
generous  hospitality  of  friendships  gen- 
erations old  ;  it  means  broad  acres,  noble 
mansions  reached  by  roadways  that  stray 
under  wide-spreading  oaks  and  elms  where 
squirrels  chatter  and  mild-eyed  cows 
look  at  you  curiously  ;  it  means  apple 
orchards,  gardens  lined  with  box-wood, 
capacious  stables  and  long  lines  of  white- 
washed cottages,  around  which  swarm  a 
dark  cloud  of  dependents  who  dance  and 
301 


Ibenrg  Clag 

sing  and  laugh— and  work  when  they 
have  to. 

Over  against  these  there  are  to  be  seen 
trolley-cars,  electric  lights,  smart  rows  of 
new  brick  houses  on  lots  thirty  by  one 
hundred,  negro  policemen  in  uniforms 
patterned  after  those  worn  by  the  Broad- 
way Squad,  streets  torn  up  by  sewers  and 
conduits,  steam-rollers  with  an  unsavory 
smell  of  tar  and  asphalt,  push-buttons, 
and  a  Hello-Exchange. 

As  to  which  form  of  civilization  is  the 
more  desirable  is  a  question  that  is  usu- 
ally answered  by  taste  and  temperament. 
One  thing  is  sure,  and  that  is,  that  a  pride 
which  swings  to  t'other  side  and  becomes 
vanity  is  often  an  element  in  both.  Each 
could  learn  something  of  the  other.  I^ots 
that  you  can  jump  across,  rented  to  fami- 
lies of  ten,  with  land  a  mile  away  that 
can  be  bought  for  fifty  dollars  an  acre,  is 
not  an  ideal  condition. 

On  the  other  hand,  inside  the  city  lim- 
its of  Lexington  are  mansions  surrounded 
by  an  even  hundred  acres.  But  at  some 
302 


•foenrB  Clag 

of  these,  gates  are  off  their  hinges,  pick- 
ets have  been  borrowed  for  kindling, 
creeping  vines  and  long  grass  o'ertop  the 
■walls  of  empty  stables,  and  a  forest  of 
weeds  insolently  invades  the  spot  where 
once  nestled  milady's  flower  garden. 

Slowly  but  surely  the  Blue-Grass  Aris- 
tocracy is  giving  way  to  purslane  or  as- 
phalt, moving  into  flats,  and  allowing 
the  boomer  to  plat  its  fair  acres — running 
excursion  trains  to  attend  auction  sales 
where  all  the  lots  are  corner  lots  and  are 
to  be  bought  on  the  instalment  plan, 
which  plan  is  said  by  a  cynic  to  give  the 
bicycle  face. 

Just  across  from  Ashland  is  a  beautiful 
estate,  recently  sold  at  a  sacrifice  to  a 
man  from  Massachusetts,  by  the  name  of 
Douglas,  who  I  am  told  is  bald  through 
lack  of  hair  and  makes  three-dollar  shoes. 
The  stately  old  mansion  mourns  its  former 
masters — all  are  gone — and  a  thrifty  Ger- 
man is  ploughing  up  the  lawn,  that  the 
cows  of  the  Douglas  (tender  and  true)  may 
eat  early  clover. 

303 


But  Ashland  is  there  to-day  in  all  the 
beauty  and  loveliness  that  Henry  Clay 
knew  when  he  wrote  to  Benton,  "I  love 
old  Ashland,  and  all  these  acres  with  their 
trees  and  flowers  and  growing  grain  lure 
me  in  a  way  that  ambition  never  can.  No, 
I  remain  at  Ashland." 

The  rambling  old  house  is  embowered 
in  climbing  vines  and  clambering  rose- 
bushes, and  is  set  thick  about  with  cedars, 
so  that  you  can  scarcely  see  the  chimney 
tops  above  the  mass  of  green.  A  lane 
running  through  locust  trees  planted  by 
Henry  Clay's  own  hands,  leads  you  to  the 
hospitable,  wide-open  door,  where  a  col- 
ored man,  whose  black  face  is  set  in  a 
frame  of  white  wool,  smiles  a  welcome. 
He  relieves  you  of  your  baggage  and  leads 
the  way  to  your  room. 

The  summer  breeze  blows  lazily  in 
through  the  open  window,  and  the  only 
sound  of  life  and  activity  about  seems  to 
center  in  two  noisy  robins  which  are  mak- 
ing a  nest  in  the  eves,  right  within  reach 
of  your  hand.  The  colored  man  apolo- 
304 


"Ibenrg  Clai? 

gizes  for  them,  anathematizes  them 
mildly,  and  proposes  to  drive  them  away, 
but  you  restrain  him.  After  the  man  has 
gone  you  bethink  you  that  the  sugges- 
tion of  driving  the  birds  away  was  only 
the  white  lie  of  society  (for  even  black 
folks  tell  white  lies),  and  the  old  man 
probably  had  no  more  intent  of  driving 
the  birds  away  than  of  going  himself. 

On  the  dresser  is  a  pitcher  of  freshly 
clipped  roses,  the  morning  dew  still  upon 
them,  and  you  only  cease  to  admire  as 
you  espy  your  mail  that  lies  there  await- 
ing your  hand.  News  from  home  and 
loved  ones  greets  you  before  these  new- 
found friends  do  !  You  have  not  seen  the 
good  folks  who  live  here,  only  the  old 
colored  man  who  pretended  that  he  was 
going  to  kill  cock-robin,  and  did  n't. 
The  hospitality  is  not  gushing  or  eflfusive 
— the  place  is  yours,  that 's  all,  and  you 
lean  out  of  the  window  and  look  down  at 
the  flower  beds,  and  wonder  at  the  silence 
and  the  quiet  and  peace,  and  feel  sorry 
for  the  folks  who  live  in  Cincinnati  and 
305 


Ibenrg  dla^ 


Chicago.  The  soughing  of  the  wind 
through  the  pines  comes  to  you  like  the 
murmur  of  the  sea,  and  breaking  in  on 
the  stillness  you  hear  the  sharp  sound  of 
an  ax^some  Gladstone  chopping,  miles 
and  miles  away. 

Your  dreams  are  broken  by  a  gentle 
tap  at  the  door  and  your  host  has  come  to 
call  on  you.  You  know  him  at  once, 
even  though  you  have  never  before  met, 
for  men  who  think  alike  and  feel  alike 
do  not  have  to  "  get  acquainted."  Heart 
speaks  to  heart. 

He  only  wishes  to  say  that  your  coming 
is  a  pleasure  to  all  the  family  at  Ashland, 
the  library  is  yours  as  well  as  the  whole 
place,  lunch  is  at  one  o'clock,  and  George 
will  get  you  anything  you  wish.  And 
back  in  the  shadow  of  the  hallway  you 
catch  sight  of  the  old  colored  man  and 
see  him  bow  low  when  his  name  is  men- 
tioned. 

Ashland  is  probably  in  better  condition 
to-day  than  when  Henry  Clay  worked  and 
planned,  and  superintended  its  fair  acres. 
306 


tjcnt^  ClaB 


The  place  has  seen  vicissitudes  since  the 
body  of  the  man  who  gave  it  immortality 
lay  in  state  here  in  July,  1852.  But  Major 
McDowell's  wife  is  the  granddaughter  of 
Henry  Clay,  and  it  seems  meet  that  the 
descendants  of  the  great  man  should  pos- 
sess Ashland.  Major  McDowell  has  means 
and  taste  and  the  fine  pride  that  would 
preserve  all  the  traditions  of  the  former 
master.  The  six  hundred  acres  are  in  a 
high  state  of  cultivation,  and  the  cattle 
and  horses  are  of  the  kinds  that  would 
have  gladdened  the  heart  of  Clay. 

In  the  library,  halls,  and  dining-room 
are  various  portraits  of  the  great  man,  and 
at  the  turn  of  the  stairs  is  a  fine  heroic 
bust,  in  bronze,  of  that  lean  face  and  form. 
Hundreds  of  his  books  are  to  be  seen  on 
the  shelves,  all  marked  and  dog-eared, 
and  scribbled  on,  thus  disproving  much 
of  that  old  cry  that  "  Clay  was  not  a  stu- 
dent." Some  men  are  students  only  in 
youth,  but  Clay's  best  reading  was  done 
when  he  was  past  fifty.  The  book  habit 
grew  upon  him  with  the  years. 
307 


IbenrB  Clag 


Here  are  his  pistols,  spurs,  saddle,  and 
memorandum  books.  Here  are  letters, 
faded  and  yellow,  dusted  with  black 
powder  on  ink  that  has  been  dry  a  hun- 
dred years,  asking  for  office,  or  words  of 
gracious  thanks  in  token  of  benefits  not 
forgot. 

Off  to  the  south  stretches  away  a  great 
forest  of  walnut,  oak,  and  chestnut  trees 
— reminders  of  the  vast  forest  that  Daniel 
Boone  knew.  Many  of  these  trees  were 
here  then,  and  here  let  them  remain, 
said  Henry  Clay.  And  so  to-day  at  Ash- 
land, as  at  Hawarden,  no  tree  is  felled 
until  it  has  been  duly  tried  by  the  entire 
family  and  all  has  been  said  for  and 
against  the  sentence  of  death.  I  heard 
Miss  McDowell  make  an  eloquent  plea 
for  an  old  oak  that  had  been  rather 
recklessly  harboring  mistletoe  and  many 
squirrels,  until  it  was  thought  probable 
that,  like  our  first  parents,  it  might  have 
a  fall.  It  was  a  plea  more  eloquent  than 
"O  Woodman,  spare  that  tree."  A  re- 
prieve for  a  year  was  granted  ;  and  I 
308 


thouglit,  as  I  cast  my  vote  on  the  side  of 
mercy,  that  the  jury  that  could  not  be 
won  by  such  a  young  woman  as  that  was 
hopelessly  dead  at  the  top  and  more  hol- 
low at  the  heart  than  the  old  oak  under 
whose  boughs  we  sat. 


309 


ni. 

ASHLAND  is  just  a  mile  south  of 
the  court-house.  When  Henry 
Clay  used  to  ride  horseback  be- 
tween the  town  and  his  farm  there  was 
scarce  a  dozen  houses  to  pass  on  the  way, 
but  now  the  street  is  all  built  up,  and  is 
smartly  paved,  and  the  trolley  line  booms 
a  noisy  car  to  the  sacred  gates  every  ten 
minutes. 

Lexington  was  laid  out  in  the  year 
1774,  and  the  intention  was  to  name  it  in 
honor  of  Colonel  Patterson,  the  founder, 
or  of  Daniel  Boone.  But  while  the  sur- 
vej'ors  were  doing  their  work,  word  came 
of  the  battle  of  some  British  and  certain 
embattled  farmers,  and  the  spirit  of  free- 
dom promptly  decreed  that  the  town 
should  be  called  Lexington. 
Three  years  after  the  laying-out  of 
310 


Ibenrg  Clag 

Lexington,  Henry  Clay  was  boni.  He 
was  the  son  of  a  poor  and  obscure  Baptist 
preacher  who  lived  at  "  The  Slashes,"  in 
Virginia.  The  boy  never  had  any  vivid 
recollection  of  his  father,  who  passed 
away  when  Henry  was  a  mere  child. 

The  mother  had  a  hard  time  of  it  with 
her  family  of  seven  children,  and  if  kind 
neighbors  had  not  aided  there  would 
have  been  actual  want.  And  surely  one 
cannot  blame  the  widow  for  "marrying 
for  a  home  "  when  opportunity  offered. 
Only  one  out  of  that  first  family  ever 
achieved  eminence,  and  the  second  brood 
is  actually  lost  to  us  in  oblivion, 

Henry  Clay  was  a  graduate  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Hard  Knocks ;  he  also  took 
several  post-graduate  courses  at  the  same 
institution.  Very  early  in  life  we  see 
that  he  possessed  the  fine,  eager,  receptive 
spirit  that  absorbs  knowledge  through 
the  finger-tips  ;  and  the  ability  to  think 
and  to  absorb  is  all  that  even  college  can 
ever  do  for  a  man.  I  doubt  whether 
college  would  have  helped  Clay,  and  it 
3'i 


might  have  dimmed  the  diamond  lustre 
of  his  mind,  and  diluted  that  fine  auda- 
city which  carried  him  on  his  waj\  In 
this  capacity  to  comprehend  in  the  mass, 
Clay's  character  was  essentially  feminine. 
We  have  Thoreau  for  authority  that  the 
intuition  and  sympathy  found  always  in 
the  saviors  of  the  world  are  pureh-  fem- 
inine attributes — the  legacy  bequeathed 
from  a  mother  who  thirsted  for  better 
things. 

From  a  clerk  in  a  country  store  to  a 
bookkeeper,  then  a  copyist  for  a  lawyer, 
a  writer  of  letters  for  the  neighborhood, 
a  reader  of  law,  and  next  a  lawyer,  were 
easy  and  natural  steps  for  this  ambitious 
boy. 

Virginia  with  its  older  settlements  of- 
fered small  opportunities,  and  so  we  find 
young  Clay  going  west,  and  lauding  at 
Lexington  when  twenty  years  old.  He 
requested  a  license  to  practise  law,  but 
the  Bar  Association,  which  consisted  of 
about  a  dozen  members,  decided  that  no 
more  lawyers  were  needed  at  Lexington. 
312 


Tbenrg  Clag 


Clay  demanded  that  he  should  be  exam- 
ined as  to  fitness,  and  the  blackberry- 
bush  Blackstones  sat  upon  him,  as  a 
coroner  would  say,  with  intent  to  give 
him  so  stiff  an  examination  that  he  would 
be  glad  to  get  work  as  a  farm-hand. 

A  dozen  questions  had  been  asked,  and 
an  attempt  had  been  made  to  confuse  and 
browbeat  the  youth,  when  the  Nestor  of 
the  Lexington  Bar  expectorated  at  a  fly 
ten  feet  away,  and  remarked,  "Oh,  the 
devil  !  there  is  no  need  of  tryin'  to  keep 
a  boy  like  this  down — he  's  as  fit  as  we, 
or  fitter  !  " 

And  so  he  was  admitted. 

From  the  very  firsl  he  was  a  success  ; 
he  toned  up  the  mental  qualities  of  the 
Fayette  County  Bar  and  made  the  older, 
easy-going  members  feel  to  see  whether 
their  laurel  wreaths  were  in  place. 

When  he  was  thirty  years  of  age  he  was 
chosen  by  the  legislature  of  Kentucky 
as  United  States  Senator.  When  his  term 
expired  he  chose  to  go  to  Congress,  prob- 
ably because  it  afforded  better  opportu- 
313 


Ibenrs  Clas 


nity  for  oratory  and  leadership.  As 
soon  as  he  appeared  upon  the  floor  he 
was  chosen  Speaker  by  acclamation.  So 
thoroughly  American  was  he,  that  one 
of  his  very  first  suggestions  was  to  the 
effect  that  every  member  should  clothe 
himself  wholly  in  fabrics  made  in  the 
United  States.  Humphrey  Marshall  ridi- 
culed the  proposition  and  called  Clay 
a  demagogue,  for  which  he  got  himself 
straightway  challenged.  Clay  shot  a 
bullet  through  his  English-made  broad- 
cloth coat,  and  then  they  shook  hands. 

When  his  term  as  Congressman  expired 
he  again  went  to  the  Senate,  and  served 
two  years.  Then  he  went  back  to  the 
House,  and  through  his  influence,  and  his 
alone,  did  we  challenge  Great  Britain, 
just  as  he  had  challenged  Marshall. 

England  accepted  the  challenge,  and 
we  call  it  the  War  of  1812. 

Very   often,    indeed,    do   we   hear   the 
rural  statesmen  at  Fourth  of  July  celebra- 
tions exclaim,   "  We  have  whipped  Eng- 
land   twice,   and   we  can  do  it  again  ! " 
314 


Ibenrs  dlag 


We  whipped  England  once  and  it  is 
possible  we  could  do  it  again,  but  she 
quite  got  the  best  of  us  in  the  War  of 
1812.  Henry  Clay  plunged  the  country 
into  war  to  redress  certain  grievances, 
and  as  apeace  commissioner  he  backed  out 
of  that  war  without  having  a  single  one  of 
those  grievances  indemnified  or  redressed. 

After  the  treaty  of  peace  had  been  de- 
clared and  "the  war  was  over,"  that  fight- 
ing Irishman,  Andrew  Jackson,  Irish-like, 
gave  the  British  a  black  eye  at  New 
Orleans,  just  for  luck,  and  this  is  the 
only  thing  in  that  whole  misunderstand- 
ing of  which  we  should  not  as  a  nation 
be  ashamed. 

If  England  had  not  had  Napoleon  on 
her  hands  at  that  particular  time,  Wel- 
lington would  probably  have  made  a 
visit  to  America,  and  might  have  brought 
along  for  us  a  Waterloo.  And  these 
things  are  fully  explained  in  the  text- 
books on  history  used  in  the  schools  of 
Great  Britain,  on  whose  possessions  the 
sun  never  sets. 

315 


But  as  Henry  Clay  had  gotten  us  into 
war,  his  diplomacy  helped  to  get  us  out, 
and  as  it  was  a  peace  without  dishonor. 
Clay's  reputation  did  not  materially  suf- 
fer. In  fact,  the  terms  of  peace  were 
so  ambiguous  that  Congress  gave  out  to 
the  world  that  it  was  a  victory,  and  the 
exact  facts  were  quite  lost  in  the  smoke 
of  Jackson's  muskets  that  hovered  over 
the  cotton  bales. 

L,ater,  when  Clay  ran  against  Jackson 
for  the  presidency  he  found  that  a  peace- 
hero  has  no  such  place  in  the  hearts  of 
men  as  a  war-hero.  Jackson  had  not  a 
tithe  of  Clay's  ability,  and  yet  Clay's 
defeat  was  overwhelming.  "  Peace  hath 
her  victories" — yes,  but  the  average 
voter  does  not  know  it.  The  only  men 
who  have  received  overwhelming  major- 
ities for  president  have  been  war-heroes. 
Obscure  men  have  crept  in  several  times, 
but  popular  diplomats — never.  The  fate 
of  such  popular  men  as  Clay,  Seward, 
and  Blaine  is  one.  And  when  one  con- 
siders how  strong  is  this  tendency  to 
316 


Ibenrs  Clas 


glorify  the  hero  of  action,  and  ignore  the 
hero  of  thought,  he  wonders  how  it  really 
happened  that  Paul  Revere  was  not  made 
the  second  President  of  the  United  States 
instead  of  John  Adatns. 

Clay  was  a  most  eloquent  pleader. 
The  grace  of  his  manner,  the  beauty  of 
his  speech,  and  the  intense  earnestness  of 
his  nature  often  convinced  men  against 
their  wills. 

There  was  sometimes,  however,  a  sus- 
picion in  the  air  that  his  best  quotations 
were  inspirations,  and  that  the  statistics 
to  which  he  appealed  were  evolved  from 
his  inner  consciousness.  But  the  man 
had  power  and  personality  plus.  He  was 
a  natural  leader,  and,  unlike  other  states- 
men we  might  name,  he  always  carried  his 
town  and  district  by  overwhelming  ma- 
jorities. And  it  is  well  to  remember  that 
the  first  breath  of  popular  disfavor  directed 
against  Henry  Clay  was  because  he  pro- 
posed the  abolition  of  slavery. 

Those  who  knew  him  best  loved  him 
most,  and  this  was  true  from  the  time  he 
317 


Ibcnre  Glag 

began  to  practise  law  in  Lexington,  when 
scarcely  twenty-one  years  old,  to  his 
seventy-fifth  year,  when  his  worn-out 
body  was  brought  home  to  rest. 

On  that  occasion  all  business  in  Lex- 
ington, and  in  most  of  Kentucky,  ceased. 
Even  the  farmers  quit  work,  and  very 
many  private  residences  were  draped  in 
mourning.  Memorial  services  were  held 
in  hundreds  of  churches,  the  day  was 
given  over  to  mourning,  and  everywhere 
men  said,  "We  shall  never  look  upon  his 
like  again." 


318 


IV. 

BEFORE  I  visited  Lexington,  my 
cousin,  Little  Emily,  duly  wrote 
me  that  on  no  account,  when  I 
was  in  Kentucky,  must  I  offer  any  criti- 
cisms on  the  character  of  Henry  Clay  ; 
for  if  I  grew  reckless  and  compared  him 
with  another  to  his  slightest  disadvan- 
tage I  should  have  to  fight. 

That  he  was  absolutely  the  greatest 
statesman  America  has  produced  is,  to 
all  Kentuckians,  a  fact  so  sure  that  they 
doubt  the  honesty  or  the  sanity  of  any 
one  who  hints  otherwise.  He  is  their 
ideal,  the  perfect  man,  the  model  for 
all  youths  to  imitate,  and  the  standard 
by  which  all  other  statesmen  are  gauged. 
Clay  to  Kentucky  scores  one  hundred. 
And  as  he  was  at  the  last  defeated  for 
the  highest  office,  which  they  say  was  his 
319 


Ibenri?  Clais 


God-given  right,  there  is  a  flavor  of 
martyrdom  in  his  history  that  is  the 
needed  crown  for  every  hero. 

Complete  success  alienates  man  from 
his  fellows,  but  suffering  makes  kinsmen 
of  us  all.  So  the  South  loves  Henry 
Clay. 

He  is  so  well  loved  that  he  is  apotheo- 
sized, and  thus  the  real  man  to  many  is 
lost  in  the  clouds.  With  his  name,  song 
and  legend  have  worked  their  miracles, 
and  to  very  many  Southern  people  he  is 
a  being  separate  and  apart,  like  Hector 
or  Achilles. 

With  my  cousin,  Little  Emily,  I  am 
always  very  frank — and  you  can  be  honest 
and  frank  with  so  few  in  this  world  of 
expediency,  you  know  !  We  are  so  frank 
in  expression  that  we  usually  quarrel 
very  shortly.  And  so  I  explained  to 
Emily  just  what  I  have  written  here, 
as  to  the  real  Henry  Clay  being  lost. 

She  contradicted  me  flatly  and  said, 
"To  love  a  person  is  not  to  lose  him — 
you  never  lose  except  through  indiflfer- 
320 


ence  or  hate  !  "  I  started  to  explain  and 
had  gotten  as  far  as,  "It  is  just  like 
this,"  when  the  conversation  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  arrival  of  General  Bellicose, 
who  had  come  to  take  us  riding  behind 
a  spanking  pair  of  geldings,  that  I  was 
assured  were  standard  bred. 

In  lyexington  you  never  use  the  general 
term  "horse."  You  speak  of  a  mare, 
a  gelding,  a  horse,  a  four-year-old,  a 
weanling,  or  a  sucker.  To  refer  to  a 
trotter  as  a  thoroughbred  is  to  suffer 
social  ostracism,  and  to  obfuscate  a  side- 
wheeler  with  a  single-footer  is  proof  of 
degeneracy.  This  applies  equally  to  the 
ethics  of  the  ball-room  or  the  livery- 
stable.  In  Kentucky  they  read  Rich- 
ard's famous  lines  thus:  "A  saddler!  a 
saddler!  my  kingdom  for  a  saddler!" 
So  when  I  complimented  General  Belli- 
cose on  his  geldings  and  noted  that  they 
went  square  without  boots  or  weights, 
and  that  he  used  no  blinders,  it  thawed 
the  social  ice,  and  we  were  as  brothers. 
Then  I  led  the  way  cautiously  to  Henry 
321 


1benr^  Claig 


Clay,  and  the  General  assured  me  that 
in  his  opinion  the  Henry  Clays  were 
even  better  than  the  George  Wilkes'. 
To  be  sure,  Wilkes  had  more  in  the 
'  thirty  list,  but  the  Clays  had  brains, 
and  were  cheerful  ;  they  neither  lugged 
nor  hung  back,  whereas  you  always  had 
to  lay  whip  to  a  Wilkes  in  order  to  get 
along  a  little  bit,  or  else  use  a  gag  and 
over-check. 

I  pressed  Little  Emily's  hand  under 
the  lap  robe  and  asked  her  if  all  Ken- 
tuckians  were  believers  in  metempsycho- 
sis. "Colonel  Littlejourneys  is  making 
fun  of  you.  General,"  said  Little  Emily  ; 
"  the  Colonel  is  talking  about  the  man 
and  you  are  discussing  trotters  !  " 

And  then  I  apologized,  but  the  General 
said  it  was  he  who  should  make  the 
apology,  and  raising  the  carriage  seat 
brought  out  a  box  of  genuine  Henry 
Clay  Havanas,  in  proof  of  amity. 

It  's  a  very  foolish  thing  to  smile  at 
a  man  who  rides  a  hobby.  Once  there 
was  a  man  who  rode  a  hobby  all  his  life, 
322 


Ibenrg  Clas 


to  the  great  amusement  of  his  enemies 
and  the  mortification  of  his  wife  ;  and 
when  the  man  was  dead  they  found  it 
was  a  real  live  horse  and  had  carried  the 
man  many  long  miles. 

General  Bellicose  loves  a  horse  ;  so 
does  Little  Emily  and  so  do  I.  But 
Little  Emily  and  the  General  know 
history  and  have  sounded  politics  in  a 
way  that  puts  me  in  the  kindergarten  ; 
and  I  found  before  the  day  was  over 
that  what  one  did  not  know  about  the 
political  history  of  America  the  other 
did.  And  mixed  up  in  it  all  we  dis- 
cussed the  merits  of  the  fox-trot  vs. 
the  single-foot. 

We  saw  the  famous  Clay  monument, 
built  by  the  State  at  a  cost  of  nearly  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  with  un- 
covered heads  gazed  through  the  gratings 
into  the  crypt  where  lies  the  dust  of  the 
great  man.  Then  we  saw  the  statue  of 
John  C.  Breckinridge  in  the  public 
square,  and  visited  various  old  ebb-tide 
mansions  where  the  "  quarters  "  had 
323 


Ibenrg  Clag 

fallen  into  decay,  and  the  erstwhile  in- 
habitants had  moved  to  the  long  row  of 
tenements  down  by  the  cotton-mill. 

My  train  whistled  and  we  were  half 
a  mile  from  the  station,  but  the  General 
said  we  would  get  there  in  time— and 
we  did.  I  bade  my  friends  good-bye  and 
quite  forgot  to  thank  them  for  all  their 
kindness,  although  down  in  my  heart 
I  fell  that  it  had  been  a  time  rare  as  a 
day  in  June.  I  believe  they  felt  my 
gratitude,  too,  for  where  there  is  such 
a  feast  of  wit  and  flow  of  soul  ;  such 
kindness,  such  generosity,  the  spirit 
understands. 

When  I  arrived  home  I  found  a  box 
awaiting  me,  bearing  the  express  mark 
of  Lexington,  Kentucky.  On  opening 
the  case  I  found  six  quart  bottles 
of  "  Henry  Clay — 1881  "  ;  and  a  card 
with  the  compliments  of  Little  Emily 
and  General  Bellicose.  On  the  outside 
of  the  case  was  neatly  stenciled  the 
legend,  "Thackeray,  Full  sett,  14  vol., 
half  Levant."  I  do  not  know  why  the 
324 


Ibcnre  dlag 


box  was  so  marked,  but  I  suppose  it  was 
in  honor  of  my  literary  proclivities.  I 
went  out  and  blew  four  merry  blasts  on  a 
ram's  horn,  and  the  Philistines  assem- 
bled. 


325 


JOHN  JAY 


327 


Calm  repose  and  the  sweets  of  undisturbed 
retirement,  appear  more  distant  than  a  peace 
with  Britain.  It  gives  me  pleasure,  however,  to 
reflect  that  the  period  is  approaching  when  we 
shall  be  citizens  of  a  better  ordered  state,  and 
the  spending  of  a  few  troublesome  years  of  our 
eternity  in  doing  good  to  this  and  future  genera- 
tions is  not  to  be  avoided  nor  regrretted.  Things 
will  come  right,  and  these  States  will  yet  be  great 
and  flourishing. 

Letter  to  Washington. 


328 


M^/z^  J^^ 


JOHN   JAY. 


I. 


AMERICA  should  feel  especially 
charitable  towards  Louis  the 
Great,  called  by  Carlyle,  Louis 
the  Little,  for  banishing  the  Huguenots 
from  France.  What  France  lost  America 
gained.  Tyranny  and  intolerance  always 
drive  from  their  homes  the  best  :  those 
who  have  ability  to  think,  courage  to  act, 
and  a  pride  that  cannot  be  coerced. 

The  merits  possessed  by  the  Huguenots 
are  exactly  those  that  every  man  and 
nation  needs.  And  these  are  simple  vir- 
tues, too,  whose  cultivation  stands  within 
the  reach  of  us  all.  They  are  the  virtues 
of  the  farmers  and  peasants,  and  plain 
people  who  do  the  work  of  the  world, 
329 


5obn  Jag 

and  give  good  government  its  bone  and 
sinew.  To  a  great  degree,  so-called  so- 
ciety is  made  up  of  parasites  who  fasten 
and  feed  upon  the  industrious  and  meth- 
odical. 

If  you  have  read  history  you  know  that 
the  men  who  go  quietly  about  their  busi- 
ness have  been  cajoled,  threatened, 
driven  ;  and  often,  when  they  have  been 
guilty  of  doing  a  little  independent 
thinking  on  their  own  account,  banished. 
And  further  than  this,  when  you  read 
the  story  of  nations  dead  and  gone  you 
will  see  that  their  decline  began  when 
the  parasites  got  too  numerous  and  flaunt- 
ingly  asserted  their  supposed  power. 
That  contempt  for  the  farmer,  and  indif- 
ference to  the  rights  of  the  man  with  tin 
pail  and  overalls,  which  one  often  sees  in 
America,  are  portents  that  mark  disinte- 
grating social  bacilli.  If  the  Republic  of 
the  United  States  ever  becomes  but  a 
memory,  like  Carthage,  Athens,  and 
Rome — drifting  oflF  into  senile  decay  like 
Italy  and  Spain,  or  France,  where  a  man 
330 


5obh  Jag 

may  yet  be  tried  and  sentenced  without 
the  right  of  counsel  or  defense,  it  will  be 
because  we  forgot — we  forgot ! 

In  moral  fibre  and  general  character- 
istics the  Huguenots  and  Puritans  were 
one.  The  Huguenots  had,  however,  the 
added  virtue  of  a  dash  of  the  French- 
man's love  of  beauty.  B}^  their  excellent 
habits  and  loyalt}'  to  truth,  as  they  saw 
it,  they  added  a  vast  share  to  the  pros- 
perity and  culture  of  the  United  States. 

Of  seven  men  who  acted  as  presiding 
officer  over  the  deliberations  of  Congress 
during  the  Revolutionary  period,  three 
were  of  Huguenot  parentage  ;  Laurens, 
Boudinot,  and  Jay.  John  Jay  was  a  typi- 
cal Huguenot,  just  as  Samuel  Adams  was 
a  typical  Puritan.  In  his  life  there  was 
no  glamor  of  romance.  Stern,  studious, 
and  inflexibly  honest,  he  made  his  way 
straight  to  the  highest  positions  of  trust 
and  honor.  Good  men  who  are  capable 
are  always  needed.  The  world  wants 
them  now  more  than  ever.  We  have 
an  overplus  of  clever  individuals  ;  but  for 
331 


5obn  5ai5 

the  faithful  men  who  are  loyal  to  a  trust 
there  is  a  crying  demand. 

The  life  of  Jay  quite  disproves  the  oft- 
found  myth,  that  a  dash  of  Mephisto  in  a 
young  man  is  a  valuable  adjunct.  John 
Jay  was  neither  precocious  nor  bad.  It 
is  further  a  refreshing  fact  to  find  that  he 
was  no  prig — simply  a  good,  healthy 
youngster  who  took  to  his  books  kindly 
and  gained  ground — made  head  upon  the 
whole  by  grubbing. 

His  father  was  a  hard-headed,  prosper- 
ous merchant,  who  did  business  in  New 
York,  and  moved  his  big  family  up  to  the 
little  village  of  Rye  because  life  in  the 
country  was  simple  and  cheap.  Thus 
did  Peter  Jay  prove  his  common  sense. 

Peter  Jay  copied  every  letter  he  wrote, 
and  we  now  have  these  copy-books,  re- 
vealing what  sort  of  man  he  was.  Relig- 
ious, he  was,  and  scrupulously  exact  in 
all  things.  We  see  that  he  ordered  Bibles 
from  England,  "and  also  six  groce  of 
Church  Wardens,"  which  I  am  told  is  a 
long  clay  pipe,  "  that  hath  a  goodly 
332 


Sobn  Jag 

flavor  and  doth  not  bite  the  tongue." 
He  also  at  one  time  ordered  a  chest  of 
tea,  and  then  countermanded  the  order, 
having  taken  the  resolve  to  "  use  no  tea 
in  my  family  while  that  rascally  Tax  is 
on — having  a  spring  of  good,  pure  water 
near  my  house."  Which  shows  that  a 
man  can  be  very  much  in  earnest  and 
still  joke. 

John  was  the  baby,  scarcely  a  year  old, 
when  the  Jay  family  moved  up  to  Rye. 
He  was  the  eighth  child,  and  as  he  grew 
up  he  was  taught  by  the  older  ones.  He 
took  part  in  all  the  fun  and  hardships  of 
farm  life — going  to  school  in  winter, 
working  in  summer ;  and  on  Sundays 
hearing  long  sermons  at  church. 

We  find  by  Peter  Jay's  letter-book  that 
"Johnny  is  about  our  brightest  child. 
We  have  great  hopes  of  him,  and  believe 
it  will  be  wise  to  educate  him  for  a 
preacher."  ...  In  order  to  educate 
boys  then,  they  were  sent  to  live  in  the 
family  of  some  man  of  learning.  And  so 
we  find  "Johnny"  at  twelve  years  of  age 
333 


5obn  5a\> 

iustalled  in  the  parsonage  at  New  Ro- 
chelle,  the  Huguenot  settlement.  The 
pastor  was  a  Huguenot,  and  as  only 
French  was  spoken  in  the  household,  the 
boy  acquired  the  language,  which  after- 
wards stood  him  in  good  stead. 

The  pastor  reported  favorably,  and, 
when  fifteen,  young  Jay  was  sent  to 
King's  College,  which  is  now  Columbia 
University,  kings  not  being  popular  in 
America. 

Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  who  nowise  re- 
sembled Ursa  Major,  was  the  president 
of  the  College  at  that  time.  He  was  also 
the  faculty,  for  there  were  just  thirty  stu- 
dents and  he  did  all  the  teaching  himself. 
Dr.  Johnson,  true  to  his  name,  dearly 
loved  a  good  book,  and  when  teaching 
mathematics  would  often  forget  the  topic 
and  recite  Ossian  by  the  page,  instead. 
Jay  caught  it,  for  the  book  craze  is  con- 
tagious and  not  sporadic.  We  take  it  by 
being  exposed. 

And  thus  it  was  while  under  the  tutelage 
of  Dr.  Johnson  that  Jay  began  to  acquire 
334 


Jobii  5ag 

that  ability  to  turn  a  terse  sentence  ;  and 
this  gained  him  admittance  into  the 
world  of  New  York  letters,  whose  special 
guardians  were  Dickinson  aud  William 
Livingston. 

Livingston  invited  the  boy  to  his  house, 
and  soon  we  find  the  youug  man  calling 
without  special  invitation,  for  Livingston 
had  a  beautiful  daughter  about  John's 
age,  who  was  fond  of  Ossian,  too,  or  said 
she  was. 

And  as  this  is  not  a  serial  love-story 
there  is  no  need  of  keeping  the  gentle 
reader  in  suspense,  so  I  will  explain  that 
some  years  later  John  married  the  girl, 
and  the  mating  was  a  very  happy  one. 

After  John  had  been  to  King's  College 
two  years  we  find  in  the  faded  and  yellow 
old  letter-book  an  item  written  by  the 
father  to  the  effect  that,  "  Our  Johnny  is 
doing  well  at  College.  He  seems  sedate 
and  intent  on  gaining  knowledge  ;  but 
rather  inclines  to  Law  instead  of  the 
Ministry." 

Dr.  Johnson  was  succeeded  by  Dr. 
335 


5obn  5aB 

Myles  Cooper,  a  Fellow  of  Oxford,  who 
used  to  wear  his  mortar-board  hat  and 
scholar's  gown  up  Broadway.  In  young 
Jay's  veins  there  was  not  a  drop  of  British 
blood.  Of  his  eight  great-grandparents 
five  were  French  and  three  Dutch,  a  fact 
he  once  intimated  in  the  Oxonian's  pres- 
ence. And  then  it  was  explained  to  the 
youth  that  if  such  were  the  truth  it  would 
be  as  well  to  conceal  it. 

Alexander  Hamilton  got  along  very 
well  with  Dr.  Cooper,  but  John  Jay  found 
himself  rusticated  shortly  before  gradua- 
tion. Some  years  later  this  Dr.  Cooper 
hastily  climbed  the  back  fence,  leaving  a 
sample  of  his  gown  on  a  picket,  while 
Alexander  Hamilton  held  the  Whig  mob 
at  bay  at  the  front  door. 

Cooper  sailed  very  soon  for  England, 
anathematizing  "the  blarsted  country" 
in  classic  Latin  as  the  ship  passed  out  of 
the  Narrows. 

"  England  is  a  good  place  for  him," 
said  the  laconic  John  Jay. 

So  John  Jay  was  to  be  a  lawyer.  And 
336 


Jobn  Jag 

the  only  way  to  be  a  lawyer  in  those 
days  was  to  work  in  a  lawyer's  office.  A 
goodly  source  of  income  to  all  established 
lawyers  was  the  sums  they  derived  for 
taking  embryo  Blackstones  into  their 
keeping.  The  greater  a  man's  reputation 
as  a  lawyer,  the  higher  he  placed  his  fee 
for  taking  a  boy  in. 

In  those  days  there  were  no  printed 
blanks,  and  a  simple  lease  w-as  often  a 
day's  work  to  write  out ;  so  it  was  not  diffi- 
cult to  keep  the  bo3-s  bus)'.  Besides  that, 
they  took  care  of  the  great  man's  horse, 
blacked  his  boots,  swept  the  office,  and 
ran  errands.  During  the  third  year  of  ap- 
prenticeship, if  all  went  well,  the  young 
man  was  duly  admitted  to  the  Bar.  A 
stiff  examination  kept  out  the  rank  out- 
siders, but  the  nomination  by  a  reputable 
attorney  was  equivalent  to  admittance, 
for  all  members  knew  that  if  you  opposed 
an  attorney  to-day,  to-morrow  he  might 
oppose  you. 

To  such  an  extent  was  this  system  of  tak- 
ing students  carried,  that,  in  1768,  we  find 
337 


5obn  3aB 

New  York  lawyers  alarmed  "  by  the  awful 
influx  of  young  Barristers  upon  this  Pro- 
vince." So  steps  were  taken  to  make  all 
attorneys  agree  not  to  have  more  than 
two  apprentices  in  their  ofiBce  at  one 
time.  About  the  same  time  the  Boston 
newspaper,  called  the  Centinel,  shows 
there  was  a  similar  state  of  over-produc- 
tion in  Boston.  Only  the  trouble  there 
was  principally  with  the  doctors,  for  doc- 
tors were  then  turned  loose  in  the  same 
way,  carrying  a  diploma  from  the  old 
physician  with  whom  they  had  matricu- 
lated and  duly  graduated. 

Law  schools  and  medical  colleges,  be  it 
known,  are  comparatively  modern  institu- 
tions, not  quite  so  new  however  as  busi- 
ness colleges,  but  pretty  nearly  so.  And 
now  in  Chicago  there  is  a  "  Barbers'  Uni- 
versity" that  issues  diplomas  to  men  who 
can  manipulate  a  razor  and  shears,  where- 
as, until  yesterday,  boys  learned  to  be 
barbers  by  working  in  a  barber's  shop. 
The  good  old  way  was  to  pass  a  profession 
along  from  man  to  man. 
338 


5obn  Ja^ 

And  it  is  so  yet  in  a  degree,  for  no  man 
is  allowed  to  practise  either  medicine  or 
law  until  he  has  spent  some  time  in  the 
office  of  a  practitioner  in  good  standing. 

In  the  Catholic  Church,  and  also  in  the 
Episcopal,  the  novitiate  is  expected  to 
serve  for  a  time  under  an  older  clergy- 
man ;  but  all  of  the  other  denominations 
have  broken  away,  and  now  spring  the 
fledgling  on  the  world  straight  from  the 
factory. 

Several  other  of  his  children  having 
sorely  disappointed  him,  Peter  Jay 
seemed  to  center  his  ambitions  on  his  boy 
John.  So  we  find  him  paying  Benjamin 
Kissam,  the  eminent  lawyer,  two  hundred 
pounds  in  good  coin  of  the  Colony  to  take 
John  Jay  as  a  'prentice  for  five  years. 

John  went  at  it  and  began  copying 
those  endless,  wordy  documents  in  which 
the  old-time  attorney  used  to  delight. 
John  sat  at  one  end  of  a  table,  and  at  the 
other  was  seated  one  Lindley  Murray,  at 
the  mention  of  whose  name  terror  used 
to  seize  my  soul. 

339 


3obn  ^ag 

Murray  has  written  some  good,  present- 
able English  to  the  effect  that  young  Jay, 
even  at  that  time,  had  the  inclination  and 
ability  to  focus  his  mind  upon  the  subject 
in  hand.  "  He  used  to  work  just  as  stead- 
ily when  his  employer  was  away  as  when 
he  was  in  the  oflSce,"  a  fact  which  the 
grammarian  seemed  to  regard  as  rather 
strange. 

In  a  year  we  find  that  when  Mr.  Kissam 
went  away  he  left  the  keys  of  the  safe  in 
John  Jay's  hands,  with  orders  what  to  do 
in  case  of  emergencies.  Thus  does  re- 
sponsibility gravitate  to  him  who  can 
shoulder  it,  and  trust  to  the  man  who  de- 
serves it. 

It  was  in  Kissam's  office  that  Jay  ac- 
quired that  habit  of  reticence  and  serene 
poise,  which,  becoming  fixed  in  character, 
made  his  words  carry  such  weight  in  later 
years.  He  never  gave  snap-shot  opinions, 
or  talked  at  random,  or  voiced  any  senti- 
ment for  which  he  could  not  give  a  reason. 

His  companions  were  usually  men 
much  older  than  he.  At  the  "  Moot 
340 


5obn  ^ag 

Club"  he  took  part  with  James  Duane, 
who  was  to  be  New  York's  first  Continen- 
tal mayor  ;  Gouverneur  Morris,  who  had 
not  at  that  time  acquired  the  wooden  leg 
which  he  once  snatched  oft  and  bran- 
dished with  happy  effect  before  a  Paris 
mob  ;  and  Samuel  Jones,  who  was  to  take 
as  'prentice  and  drill  that  strong  man, 
DeWitt  Clinton. 

Before  his  five  years  of  apprenticeship 
were  over,  John  Jay,  the  quiet,  the  modest, 
the  reticent,  was  known  as  a  safe  and  com- 
petent lawyer — Kissani  having  pushed 
him  forward  as  associate-counsel  in  vari- 
ous difficult  cases. 

Meantime,  certain  chests  of  tea  had 
been  dumped  into  Boston  Harbor,  and 
the  example  had  been  followed  by  the 
"  Mohawks  "  in  New  York.  British  op- 
pression had  made  many  Tories  luke- 
warm, and  then  English  rapacity  had 
transformed  these  Tories  into  Whigs. 
Jay  was  one  of  these  ;  and  in  newspapers 
and  pamphlets,  and  from  the  platform,  he 
had  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  Colonies. 
341 


Jobn  Jag 

Opposition  crystallized  his  reasons,  and 
threats  only  served  to  make  him  reaffirm 
the  truths  that  he  had  stated. 

So  prominent  had  his  utterances  made 
his  name,  that  one  fine  day  he  was  nomi- 
nated to  attend  the  first  Congress  of  the 
Colonies  to  be  held  in  Philadelphia. 

In  August,  1774,  we  find  him  leaving 
his  office  in  New  York  in  charge  of  a 
clerk,  and  riding  horseback  over  to  the 
town  of  Elizabeth,  there  joining  his 
father-in-law,  and  the  two  starting  for 
Philadelphia. 

On  the  road  they  fell  in  with  John 
Adams,  who  kept  a  diary.  That  night  at 
the  tavern  where  they  stopped,  the  sharp- 
eyed  Yankee  recorded  the  fact  of  meet- 
ing these  new  friends  and  added  :  "  Mr. 
Jay  is  a  young  gentleman  of  the  law  .  .  . 
and  Mr.  Scott  says  a  hard  student  and  a 
very  good  speaker." 

And  so  they  journeyed  on  across  the 
vState  to  Trenton  and  down  the  Delaware 
River  to  Philadelphia,  visiting,  and  cau- 
tiously discussing  great  issues  as  they 
342 


5obn  5;is 

went.  Samuel  Adams,  too,  was  in  the 
party,  as  reticent  as  Jay.  Jay  was  twenty- 
nine  and  Samuel  Adams  fifty-two  years 
old,  but  the\'  became  good  friends,  and 
vSamuel  once  quietly  said  to  John  Adams, 
"  That  man  Jay  is  young  in  years  but  he 
has  au  old  head." 

Jay  was  the  youngest  man  of  the  Con- 
vention, save  one. 

When  the  Second  Congress  met,  Jay 
was  again  a  delegate.  He  served  on  sev- 
eral important  committees,  and  drew  up 
a  statement  that  was  addressed  to  the 
people  of  England  ;  but  he  was  recalled 
to  New  York  before  the  supreme  issue 
was  reached,  and  thus,  through  accident, 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  does  not 
contain  the  signature  of  John  Jay. 


343 


II. 


IN  1778,  Jay  was  chosen  president  of 
the  Continental  Congress  to  succeed 
that  other  patriotic  Huguenot,  Laur- 
ens.    The  following  year  he  was  selected 
as  the  man  to  go  to  Spain,  to  secure  from 
that  country  certain  friendly  favors. 

His  reception  there  was  exceedingly 
frosty,  and  the  mention  of  his  two  years 
on  the  ragged  edge  of  coiirt  life  at  Ma- 
drid, in  later  years  brought  to  his  face  a 
grim  smile. 

Spain's  diplomatic  policy  was  smooth 
hypocrisy  and  rank  untruth,  and  all  of 
her  promises,  it  seems,  were  made  but  to 
be  broken.  Jay's  negotiations  were  only 
partially  successful,  but  he  came  to  know 
the  language,  the  country,  and  the  peo- 
ple in  a  way  that  made  this  knowledge 
very  valuable  to  America. 
344 


5obn  Ja^ 

By  1781,  England  had  begun  to  see  that 
to  compel  the  absolute  submission  of  the 
Colonies  was  more  of  a  job  than  she  had 
anticipated.  News  of  victories  was  duly 
sent  to  the  "  mother  country  "  at  regular 
intervals,  but  with  these  glad  tidings  were 
requests  for  more  troops,  and  requisitions 
for  ships  and  arms. 

The  American  army  was  a  very  hard 
thing  to  find.  It  would  fight  one  day,  to 
retreat  the  next,  and  had  a  way  of  making 
midnight  attacks  and  flank  movements, 
that  were  verj-  confusing.  Then  it  would 
separate,  to  come  together — Lord  knows 
where  !  This  made  Lord  Cornwallis  once 
write  to  the  Home  Secretary:  "I  could 
easily  defeat  the  enemy,  if  I  could  find 
him  and  engage  him  in  a  fair  fight."  He 
seemed  to  think  it  was  "  no  fair,"  forget- 
ting the  old  proverb  which  has  something 
to  say  about  love  and  war. 

Finally,  Cornwallis  got  the   thing  his 

soul  desired — a  fair  fight.     He  was  then 

acting  on  the  defensive.     The  fight  was 

short  and  sharp  ;  and  Colonel  Alexander 

345 


3obn  5a^ 

Hamilton,  who  led  the  charge,  in  ten 
minutes  planted  the  Stars  and  Stripes  on 
his  ramparts. 

That  night  Cornwallis  was  the  "  guest" 
of  Washington,  and  the  next  daj-  a  din- 
ner was  given  in  his  honor. 

He  was  then  obliged  to  write  to  the 
Home  Secretary,  "  We  have  met  the 
enemy,  and  we  are  theirs," — but  of 
course  he  did  not  express  it  just  exactly 
that  way.  Then  it  was  that  King  George, 
for  the  first  time,  showed  a  disposition  to 
negotiate  for  peace. 

As  peace  commissioners,  America 
named  Franklin,  John  Adams,  Laurens, 
Jay,  and  JeflFerson. 

Jefferson  refused  to  leave  his  wife,  who 
was  in  delicate  health.  Adams  was  at 
The  Hague,  just  closing  up  a  very  neces- 
sary loan.  Laurens  had  been  sent  to 
Holland  on  a  diplomatic  mission,  and 
his  ship  having  been  overhauled  by  a 
British  man-of-war,  he  was  safely  in  that 
historic  spot,  the  Tower  of  Loudon. 

So  Jay   and  Franklin   alone    met   the 

346 


3obM  Jag 

English  commissioners,  and  Jay  stated 
to  them  the  conditions  of  peace. 

In  a  few  weeks  Adams  arrived,  still 
keeping  a  diary.  In  that  diary  is  found 
this  item:  "The  French  call  me  '  L,e 
Washington  de  la  Negociation  '  :  a  very 
flattering  compliment  indeed,  to  which  I 
have  no  right,  but  sincerely  think  it  be- 
longs to  Mr.  Jay." 

Jay  quitted  Paris  in  May,  1784,  having 
been  gone  from  his  native  land  eight 
years. 

When  he  reached  New  York  there  was 
a  great  demonstration  in  his  honor.  Tri- 
umphal arches  were  erected  across  Broad- 
way, houses  and  stores  were  decorated 
with  bunting,  cannons  boomed,  and  bells 
rang.  The  freedom  of  the  city  was  pre- 
sented to  him  in  a  gold  box,  with  an 
exceedingly  complimentary  address,  en- 
grossed on  parchment,  and  signed  by  one 
hundred  of  the  leading  citizens. 

Jay  spent  just  one  day  in  New  York, 
and  then  rode  on  horseback  up  to  the  old 
farm  at  Rye,  Westchester  County,  to  see 
347 


5obn  ^ag 

his  father.  That  evening  there  was  a  ser- 
vice of  thanksgiving  at  the  village  church, 
after  which  the  citizens  repaired  to  the 
Jay  mansion,  one  story  high  and  eighty 
feet  long,  where  a  barrel  of  cider  was 
tapped,  and  "  a  groce  of  Church  War- 
dens" passed  around,  with  free  tobacco 
for  all. 

John  Jay  stood  on  the  front  porch  and 
made  a  modest  speech  just  five  minutes 
long,  among  other  things  saying  he  had 
come  home  to  be  a  neighbor  to  them, 
having  quit  public  life  for  good.  But  he 
refused  to  talk  about  his  own  experiences 
in  Europe.  His  reticence,  however,  was 
made  up  for  by  good  old  Peter  Jay,  who 
assured  the  people  that  John  Jay  was 
America's  foremost  citizen  ;  and  in  this 
statement  he  was  backed  up  by  the  vil- 
lage preacher,  with  not  a  dissenting  voice 
from  the  assembled  citizens. 

It  is  rather  curious  (or  it  is  n't,  I'm  not 

sure  which)   how  most   statesmen   have 

quit  public  life  several  times  during  their 

careers,  like  the  prima  donnas  who  make 

348 


ir-- 


^^^ 


'-r 


,^»  >. 


HOME   OF  JOHN   JAY,    Katonah,  N.  Y, 


5obn  5ai? 

farewell  tours.  The  ingratitude  of  re- 
publics is  proverbial,  but  to  limit  in- 
gratitude to  republics  shows  a  lack  of 
experieuce.  The  progeny  of  the  men 
who  tired  of  hearing  Aristides  called  The 
Just  are  very  numerous.  Of  course  it  is 
easy  to  say  that  he  who  expects  gratitude 
does  not  deserve  it ;  but  the  fact  remains 
that  the  men  who  know  it  are  yet  stung 
by  calumny  when  it  comes  their  way. 

That  fine  demonstration  in  Jay's  honor 
was  in  great  part  to  overwhelm  and  stamp 
out  the  undertone  of  growl  and  snarl 
that  filled  the  air.  Many  said  that  peace 
had  been  gained  at  awful  cost,  that  Jay 
had  deferred  to  royalty  and  trifled  with 
the  wishes  of  the  people  in  making  terms. 

And  now  Jay  had  got  home,  back  to 
his  family  and  farm,  back  to  quiet  and 
rest.  The  long,  hard  fight  had  been  won 
and  America  was  free.  For  eight  years 
had  he  toiled  and  striven  and  planned  : 
much  had  been  accomplished — not  all  he 
hoped,  but  much. 

He  had  done  his  best  for  his  country, 
349 


5obn  3nt 

his  own  affairs  were  in  bad  shape,  Con- 
gress had  paid  him  meagrely,  and  now 
he  would  turn  public  work  over  to  others 
and  live  his  own  life. 

All  through  life  men  reach  these  places 
where  they  say,  "  Here  will  we  build  three 
tabernacles  "  ;  but  out  of  the  silence 
comes  the  imperative  Voice  :  "Arise,  and 
get  thee  hence,  for  this  is  not  thy  rest." 

And  now  the  war  was  over,  peace  was 
concluded  ;  but  war  leaves  a  country  in 
chaos.  The  long,  slow  work  of  recon- 
struction, and  of  binding  up  a  nation's 
wounds  must  follow.  America  was  inde- 
pendent, but  she  had  yet  to  win  from  the 
civilized  world  the  recognition  that  she 
must  have  in  order  to  endure. 

Jay  was  importuned  by  Washington  to 
take  the  position  of  Secretary  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  one  of  the  very  most  important 
offices  to  be  filled. 

He  accepted,  and  discharged  the  exact- 
ing duties  of  the  place  for  five  years. 

Then  came  the  adoption  of  the  Federal 
Constitution,  and  the  election  of  Wash- 
350 


3obn  Jae 

ington  as  President  of  the  United  States. 

Washington  wrote  to  Jay  :  "  There 
must  be  a  Court,  perpetual  and  Supreme, 
to  which  all  questions  of  internal  dispute 
between  states  or  people  be  referred. 
This  Court  must  be  greater  than  the 
Executive,  greater  than  any  individual 
State,  separated  and  apart  from  any  polit- 
ical party.  You  must  be  the  first  official 
head  of  this  Court,  just  as  I  am  now  head 
of  the  Executive." 

And  Jay,  as  every  schoolboy  knows, 
was  the  first  Chief-Justice  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States.  By  his  sagac- 
ity, his  dignity,  and  knowledge  of  men, 
and  love  of  order  and  uprightness,  he 
gave  it  that  high  place  which  it  yet  holds, 
and  which  it  must  hold  ;  for  when  the 
decisions  of  the  Supreme  Court  are  ques- 
tioned by  a  state  or  people,  the  fabric  of 
our  government  is  but  a  spider's  web 
through  which  anarchy  and  unreason 
will  stalk. 

In  1794,  came  serious  complications 
with  Great  Britain,  growing  out  of  the 
351 


5obn  ^ag 

construction  of  terms  of  peace  made  in 
Paris  eleven  years  before. 

Some  one  must  go  to  Great  Britain  and 
make  a  new  treaty  in  order  to  preserve 
our  honor  and  save  us  from  another  war. 

Franklin  was  dead  ;  Adams  as  Vice- 
President  could  not  be  spared ;  Hamil- 
ton's fiery  temper  was  dangerous, — no 
one  could  accomplish  the  delicate  mis- 
sion so  well  as  Jay. 

Jay,  self-centered  and  calm,  said  little; 
but  in  compliance  with  Washington's 
wish  resigned  his  office,  and  set  sail  with 
full  powers  to  use  his  own  judgment  in 
everything,  and  the  assurance  that  any 
treaty  he  made  would  be  ratified. 

Arriving  in  England,  he  at  once  opened 
negotiations  with  Lord  Grenville,  and  in 
five  months  the  new  treaty  was  signed. 

It  provided  for  the  payment  to  Ameri- 
can citizens  for  losses  of  private  shipping 
during  the  war;  and  over  ten  million  dol- 
lars were  paid  to  citizens  of  the  United 
States  under  this  agreement.  It  fixed  the 
boundary  line  between  the  State  of  Maine 
352 


jobn  5a^ 

and  Canada  ;  provided  for  the  surrender 
of  British  posts  in  the  far  West ;  that 
neither  nation  was  to  allow  enlistments 
within  its  territory  by  a  third  nation  at 
war  with  another  ;  arranged  for  the  sur- 
render of  fugitives  charged  with  murder 
or  forgery  ;  and  made  definite  terms  as 
to  various  minor,  but  none  the  less  im- 
portant, questions. 

A  storm  of  opposition  greeted  the  treaty 
when  its  terms  were  made  known  in 
America.  Jay  was  accused  of  bartering 
away  the  rights  of  America,  and  indig- 
nation meetings  were  held,  because  Jay 
had  not  insisted  on  apologies,  and  set 
sums  of  indemnity  on  this,  that,  and  the 
other. 

Nevertheless,  Washington  ratified  the 
treaty  ;  and  when  Jay  arrived  in  America 
there  was  a  greeting  fully  as  cordial  and 
generous  as  that  on  the  occasion  of  his 
other  home-coming. 

In  fact,  while  he  was  absent,  his  friends 
had  put  him  in  a  nomination  as  Governor 
of  New  York.  His  election  to  that  office 
353 


5obn  5as 

occurred  just  two  days  before  he  arrived, 
aud  when  he  landed  his  senses  were  mys- 
tified by  hearing  loud  hurrahs  for  "  Gov- 
ernor Jay." 

When  his  term  of  office  expired  he  was 
re-elected,  so  he  served  as  Governor,  in 
all,  six  years.  The  most  important  meas- 
ure carried  out  during  that  time  was  the 
abolition  of  slavery  in  the  State  of  New 
York,  an  act  he  had  strenuously  insisted 
on  for  twenty  years,  but  which  was  not 
made  possible  until  he  had  the  power  of 
Governor,  and  crowded  the  measure  upon 
the  Legislature. 

Over  a  quarter  of  a  century  had  passed 
since  John  Adams  and  John  Jay  had  met 
on  horseback  out  there  on  the  New  Jersey 
turnpike.  Their  intimacy  had  been  con- 
tinuous and  their  labors  as  important  as 
ever  engrossed  the  minds  of  men,  but  in 
it  all  there  was  neither  jealousy  nor  bick- 
ering.    They  were  friends. 

At  the  close  of  Jay's  gubernatorial  term, 
President  Adams  nominated  him  for  the 
oflBce  of  Chief-Justice,  made  vacant  by 
.354 


the  resignation  of  Oliver  Ellsworth.  The 
Senate  unanimously  confirmed  the  nomi- 
nation, but  Jay  refused  to  accept  the 
place. 

For  twenty-eight  years  he  had  served 
his  country, — served  it  in  its  most  try- 
ing hours.  He  was  not  an  old  man  in 
years,  but  the  severitj-  and  anxiety  of  his 
labors  had  told  on  his  health,  and  the 
elasticity  of  youth  had  gone  from  his 
brain  forever.  He  knew  this,  and  feared 
the  danger  of  continued  exertion.  "  My 
best  work  is  done,"  he  said  ;  "  if  I  con- 
tinue I  may  undo  the  good  I  have  accom- 
plished.    I  have  earned  a  rest." 

He  retired  to  the  ancestral  farm  at  Bed- 
ford, Westchester  County,  to  enjoy  his 
vacation.  In  a  year  his  wife  died,  and 
the  shock  told  on  his  already  shattered 
nerves. 

"The  habit  of  reticence  grew  upon 
him,"  says  one  writer,  "until  he  could 
not  be  tricked  into  giving  an  opinion 
even  about  the  weather." 

And  so  he  lived  out  his  days  as  a  partial 
355 


John  5ai2 

recluse,  deep  in  problems  of  "raising 
watermelons,  and  sheep  that  would  not 
jump  fences."  He  worked  with  his 
hands,  wore  blue  jeans,  voted  at  every 
town  election,  but  to  a  great  degree, 
lived  only  in  the  past.  The  problems  of 
church  and  village  politics  and  farm  life 
filled  his  declining  days. 

To  a  great  degree  his  physical  health 
came  back,  but  the  problems  of  statecraft 
be  left  to  other  heads  and  hands. 

His  religious  nature  manifested  itself 
in  various  philanthropic  schemes,  and 
the  Bible  Society  he  founded  endures 
even  unto  this  day.  These  things  afforded 
a  healthful  exercise  for  that  tireless  brain 
which  refused  to  run  down. 

His  daughters  made  his  home  ideal, 
their  love  and  gentleness  soothing  his 
declining  years. 

Death  to  him  was  kindly,  gathering 
him  as  Autumn,  the  messenger  of  Winter, 
reaps  the  leaves. 


356 


ni. 

No  one  has  ever  made  the  claim 
that  Jay  possessed  genius.  He 
had  something  which  is  better, 
though,  for  most  of  the  affairs  of  life,  and 
that  is  common  sense.  In  his  intellect 
there  was  not  the  flash  of  Hamilton,  nor 
the  creative  quality  possessed  byjeflfer- 
son,  nor  the  large  all-roundness  of 
Franklin. 

He  was  the  average  man  who  has 
trained  and  educated  and  made  the  best 
use  of  every  faculty  and  every  op- 
portunity. He  was  genuine ;  he  was 
honest  ;  and  if  he  never  surprised  his 
friends  by  his  brilliancy,  he  surely 
never  disappointed  them  through  duplic- 
ity. He  made  no  promises  that  he 
could  not  keep ;  he  held  out  no  vain 
hopes. 

357 


3obn  Jag 

As  a  diplomat  he  seems  nearly  the 
ideal.  We  have  been  taught  that  the 
line  of  demarcation  between  diplomacy 
and  untruth  is  very  shadowy.  But  truth  is 
very  good  policy  and  in  the  main  answers 
the  purpose  much  better  than  the  other 
thing.  I  am  quite  willing  to  leave  the 
matter  to  those  who  have  tried  both. 

We  cannot  say  that  Jay  was  "  magnet- 
ic," for  magnetic  men  win  the  rabble  ; 
but  Jay  did  better  :  he  won  the  confidence 
and  admiration  of  the  strong  and  discern- 
ing. His  manner  was  gentle  and  pleas- 
ing ;  his  patience  untiring  ;  his  words 
few,  and  as  a  listener  he  set  a  pace  that 
all  novitiates  in  the  school  of  diplomacy 
would  do  well  to  follow. 

To  talk  well  is  a  talent,  but  to  listen  is 
a  fine  art.  If  I  really  wished  to  win  the 
love  of  a  man  I  'd  practise  the  art  of 
listening.  Even  dull  people  often  talk 
well  when  there  is  some  one  near  who 
cultivates  the  receptive  mood  ;  and  to 
please  a  man  you  must  give  him  an  op- 
portunity to  be  both  wise  and  witty. 
358 


5obn  3as 

Men  are  pleased  with  their  friends  when 
they  are  pleased  with  themselves,  and  no 
man  is  ever  so  pleased  with  himself  as 
when  he  has  expressed  himself  well. 
I,ife  is  expression. 

The  sympathetic  listener  at  a  lecture  or 
sermon  is  the  only  one  who  gets  his 
money's  worth.  If  you  would  get  good, 
lend  your  sympathy  to  a  speaker,  and  if, 
accidentally,  you  imbibe  heresy,  you  can 
easily  throw  it  overboard  when  you  get 
home. 

John  Jay  was  quiet  and  undemonstra- 
tive in  speech,  cultivating  a  fine  reserve. 
In  debate  he  never  fired  all  of  his  guns, 
and  his  best  battles  were  won  with  the 
powder  that  was  never  exploded.  "  You 
had  always  better  keep  a  small  balance  to 
your  credit,"  he  once  advised  a  young 
attorney. 

When  the  first  Congress  met,  Jay  was 
not  in  favor  of  complete  independence 
from  England.  He  asked  only  for  simple 
justice,  and  said,  "The  middle  course  is 
best."  He  listened  to  John  Adams  and 
359 


5obn  Jag 

Patrick  Henry  and  quietly  discussed  the 
matter  with  Samuel  Adams  ;  but  it  was 
some  time  before  he  saw  that  the  density 
of  King  George  was  hopeless,  and  that 
the  work  of  complete  separation  was 
being  forced  upon  the  colonies  by  the 
blindness  and  stupidity  of  the  British 
Parliament. 

He  then  accepted  the  issue. 
During  those  first  days  of  the  Revolu- 
tion New  York  did  not  stand  firm,  as  did 
Boston,  for  the  cause  of  independence. 
"  The  foes  at  home  are  the  only  ones  I 
really  fear,"  once  wrote  Hamilton. 

First  to  pacify  and  placate,  then  to  win 
and  hold  those  worse  than  neutrals  was 
the  work  of  John  Jay.  While  Washing- 
ton was  in  the  field.  Jay,  with  tireless 
pen,  upheld  the  cause,  and  by  his  speech 
and  presence  kept  anarchy  at  bay. 

As  president  of  the  Committee  of  Safety 
he  showed  he  could  do  something  more 
than  talk  and  write.  When  Tories  re- 
fused to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  he 
quietly  wrote  the  order  to  imprison  or 
360 


Jobn  5ai5 

bamsh  ;  and  with  friend,  foe,  or  kinsman 
there  was  neither  dalliance  nor  turning 
aside. 

His  heart  was  in  the  cause — his  prop- 
erty, his  life.  The  time  for  argument 
had  passed. 

In  the  gloom  that  followed  the  defeat 
of  Washington  at  Brooklyn,  Jay  issued 
an  address  to  the  people  that  is  a  classic 
in  its  fine,  stern  spirit  of  hope  and 
strength.  Congress  had  the  address  re- 
printed and  sent  broadcast,  and  also 
translated  and  printed  in  German. 

His  work  divides  itself  by  a  strange 
coincidence  into  three  equal  parts. 
Twenty-eight  years  were  passed  in  youth 
and  education  ;  twenty-eight  years  in 
continuous  public  work  ;  and  twenty- 
eight  years  in  retirement  and  rest. 

As  one  of  that  immortal  ten,  mentioned 
by  a  great  English  statesman,  who  gave 
order,  dignity,  stability,  and  direction  to 
the  cause  of  American  Independence,  the 
name  of  John  Jay  is  secure. 

361 


WILLIAM  H.  SEWARD 


363 


I  avow  my  adherence  to  the  Union  with  my 
friends,  with  my  party,  with  my  State  ;  or  with- 
out either,  as  they  may  determine ;  in  every 
event  of  peace  or  war,  with  every  consequence  of 
honor  or  dishonor,  of  life  or  death. 

Speech  in  the  U.  S.  Senate,  i860. 


364 


i^M^^ 


WILLIAM  H.  SEWARD. 


I. 


WHEN  I  was  a  freshman  at  the  Lit- 
tle Red  Schoolhouse,  the  last 
exercise  iu  the  afternoon  was 
spelling.  The  larger  pupils  stood  in  aline 
that  ran  down  one  aisle  and  curled  clear 
around  the  stove.  Well  do  I  remember  one 
winter  when  the  biggest  boy  in  the  school 
stood  at  the  tail  end  of  the  class  most  of 
the  time,  while  at  the  head  of  the  line,  or 
always  very  near  it,  was  a  freckled,  check- 
aproned  girl,  who,  once  at  a  spellin'  bee 
had  defeated  even  the  teacher.  This  girl 
was  ten  years  older  than  myself,  and  I 
was  then  too  small  to  spell  with  this  first 
grade,  but  I  watched  the  daily  fight  of 
365 


mHilliam  lb.  SewarD 


wrestling  with  such  big  words  as  "  un-in- 
ten-tion-al-lj'  "  and  "  mis-un-der-stand- 
ing,"  and  longed  for  a  day  when  I,  too, 
should  take  part  and  possibly  stand  next 
to  this  fine,  smart  girl,  who  often  smiled 
at  me  approvingly.  And  I  planned  how 
I  would  hold  her  hand  as  we  would 
stand  there  in  line  and  mentally  dare 
the  master  to  come  on  with  his  diction- 
ary. We  two  would  be  the  smartest 
scholars  of  the  school  and  always  help 
each  other  in  our  "sums." 

Yet  when  time  had  pushed  me  into  the 
line,  she  of  the  check  apron  was  not 
there,  and  even  if  she  had  been  I  should 
not  have  dared  to  hold  her  hand. 

But  I  must  not  digress— the  particular 
thing  I  wish  to  explain  is  that  one  day  at 
recess  the  best  scholar  was  iu  tears,  and  I 
went  to  her  and  asked  what  was  the  mat- 
ter, and  she  told  me  that  some  of  the  big 
girls  had  openly  declared  that  she — my 
fine,  freckled  girl,  the  check-aproned,  the 
invincible— held  her  place  at  the  head  of 
the  school  only  through  favoritism. 
366 


Milliam  1b.  ScwaiD 


I  burned  with  rage  aad  resentment  and 
proposed  fight  ;  then  I  burst  out  crying 
and  together  we  mingled  our  tears. 

All  this  was  long  ago.  Since  then  I 
have  been  in  many  climes,  and  met  many 
men,  and  read  history  a  bit,  I  hope  not 
without  profit.  And  this  I  have  learned  : 
that  the  person  who  stands  at  the  head  of 
his  class  (be  he  country  lad  or  presiden- 
tial candidate)  is  always  the  target  for 
calumny  and  the  unkindness  of  contem- 
poraries who  can  neither  appreciate  nor 
understand. 

Not  long  ago  I  spent  several  days  at 
Auburn,  New  York,  so  named  by  some 
pioneer  who,  when  the  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury was  very  young,  journeyed  thither- 
ward with  a  copy  of  Goldsmith's  Deserted 
Village  in  his  pack. 

Auburn  is  a  flourishing  city  of  thirty 
thousand  inhabitants.  It  has  beautiful 
wide  streets,  lined  with  elms  that  in 
places  form  an  archway.  There  are 
churches  to  spare  and  schools  galore  and 
handsome  residences.  Then  there  are 
367 


Milltam  1b.  SevvarD 


electric  cars  and  electric  lights  and  dyna- 
mos, with  which  men  electrocute  other 
men  in  the  wink  of  an  eye.  I  saw  the 
fin  de  siMe  guillotine  and  sat  in  the  chair, 
and  the  jubilant  patentee  told  me  that  it 
was  the  quickest  scheme  for  extinguishing 
life  ever  invented— patented  Anno  Christi 
1895.  Verily  we  live  in  the  age  of  the 
Push  Button  !  And  as  I  sat  there  I  heard 
a  laugh  that  was  a  quaver,  and  the  sound 
of  a  stout  cane  emphasizing  a  jest,  struck 
against  the  stone  floor. 

"  We  did  n't  have  such  things  when  I 
was  a  boy  !  "  came  the  tremulous  voice. 

And  then  the  newcomer  explained  to 
me  that  he  was  eighty-seven  years  old 
last  May,  and  that  he  well  remembered  a 
time  when  a  plain  oaken  gallows  and  a 
strong  rope  were  good  enough  for  Au- 
burn—"  Provided  Bill  Seward  did  n't  get 
the  fellow  free,"  added  my  new-found 
friend. 

Then    the  old  man  explained  that  he 
used  to  be  a  guard  on  the  walls,  and  now 
he  had  a  grandson  who  occupied  the  same 
368 


Mdliam  lb.  SewarD 

oflSce,  and  in  answer  to  my  question  said 
he  knew  Seward  as  though  he  were  a 
brother.  "  Bill,  he  was  the  luckiest  man 
ever  in  Auburn — he  married  rich  and 
tumbled  over  bags  of  money  if  he  just 
walked  on  the  street.  He  believed  in 
neither  God  nor  devil  and  had  a  pompous 
way  o'  niakiu'  folks  think  he  knew  all 
about  everything.  To  make  folks  think 
you  know  is  just  as  well  as  to  know,  I 
s'pose  !  "  and  the  old  man  laughed  and 
struck  his  cane  on  the  echoing  floor  of 
the  cell. 

The  sound  and  the  place  and  the  com- 
pany gave  me  a  creepy  feeling,  and  I  ex- 
cused myself  and  made  my  way  out  past 
armed  guards,  through  doorways  where 
iron  bars  clicked  and  snapped,  and  steel 
bolts  that  held  a  thousand  men  in  shot 
back  to  let  me  out,  out  into  a  freer  air 
and  better  atmosphere.  And  as  I  passed 
through  the  last  overhanging  arch  where 
a  one-armed  guard  wearing  a  G.  A.  R. 
badge  turned  a  needlessly  big  key,  there 
came  unbeckoned  across  my  inward  sight 
369 


TRIlilllam  lb.  SevvaiD 


a  vision  of  a  check-aproned  girl  in  tears, 
sobbing  with  head  on  desk.  And  I  said 
to  myself:  "Yes,  yes!  country  girl  or 
statesman,  you  shall  drink  the  bitter  po- 
tion that  is  the  penalty  of  success,— drink 
it  to  the  very  dregs.  If  you  \^ould  escape 
moral  and  physical  assassination,  do 
nothing,  say  nothing,  be  nothing— court 
obscurity,  for  only  in  oblivion  does  safety 
he." 

All  mud  sticks,  but  no  mud  is  immortal, 
and  that  senile  fling  at  the  name  of  Sew- 
ard is  the  last  flickering,  dying  word  of 
detraction  that  can  be  heard  in  the  town 
that  was  his  home  for  full  half  a  century, 
or  in  the  land  he  served  so  well.  And 
yet  it  was  in  Auburn  that  mob  spirit  once 
found  a  voice,  and  when  Seward  was  Lin- 
coln's most  helpful  adviser,  and  his  sons 
were  at  the  front  serving  the  country's 
cause,  cries  of ' '  Burn  his  house  !  Burn  his 
house  !  "  came  to  the  distracted  ears  of 
wife  and  daughter. 

But   all  that   has  gone  now.     In   fact, 
denial  that  calumny  was  ever  offered  to 
370 


IWilliam  lb.  SewarD 


the  name  of  Seward  springs  quickly  to 
the  lips  of  Auburn  men,  as  they  point 
with  pride  to  that  beautiful  old  home 
where  he  lived,  and  where  now  his  son 
resides  ;  and  then  they  lead  you,  with  a 
reverence  that  nearly  uncovers,  to  the 
stately  bronze  standing  on  the  spot  that 
was  once  his  garden — now  a  park  belong- 
ing to  the  people. 

Time  marks  wondrous  changes ;  and 
the  city  where  William  Lloyd  Garrison 
lived  in  "a  rat  hole,"  as  reported  by 
Boston's  Mayor,  now  honors  Common- 
wealth Avenue  by  his  statue.  And  so 
the  sons  of  Seward's  enemies  have  de- 
voted willing  dollars  to  preserving  "  that 
classic  face  and  spindling  form  "  in  death- 
less bronze. 

And  they  do  well,  for  Seward's  name 
and  fame  are  Auburn's  glory. 


371 


n. 


I  MAY  be  mistaken,  but  it  seems  to  me 
that  all  the  worry  of  the  world  is 
quite  useless.  And  on  no  subject 
affecting  mortals  is  there  so  much  worry 
as  that  of  (no,  not  love  ! )  parents'  ambi- 
tions for  their  children.  When  the 
dimpled  darling  toddles  and  lisps  and 
chatters,  the  satisfaction  he  gives  is  un- 
alloyed ;  for  he  is  so  small  and  insignifi- 
cant, and  his  demands  so  imperious,  that 
the  entire  household  dance  attendance 
on  .the  wee  tyrant,  and  count  it  joy. 
But  by  and  by  the  things  at  which  we 
used  to  laugh  become  presumptuous, 
and  that  which  was  once  funny  is  now 
perverse.  And  the  more  practical  a 
man  is,  the  larger  his  stock  of  Con- 
necticut common-sense,  the  greater  his 
disillusioument  as  his  children  grow  to 
3/2 


•WfliUiam  1[3.  SewarD 


manhood.  When  he  beholds  dawdling 
inanity  and  dowdy  vanity  growing  lush 
as  jimson,  where  yesterday,  with  strained 
prophetic  vision,  he  saw  budding  ex- 
cellence and  worth,  his  soul  is  wrung 
by  a  worry  that  knows  no  peace.  The 
matter  is  so  poignantly  personal  that  he 
dare  not  share  it  with  another  in  confes- 
sional, and  so  he  hugs  his  grief  to  his 
heart,  and  tries  to  hide  it  even  from  him- 
self. 

And  thus  does  man}'  a  mother  scrub 
the  kitchen  floor  on  her  knees,  rather  than 
face  the  irony  of  maternity  and  ask  the 
assistance  of  the  seventeen-year-old  pert 
chit  with  bangs,  who  strums  a  mandolin 
in  the  little  front  parlor,  gay  with  its 
paper  flowers,  six  plush-covered  chairs, 
and  a  "  company  "  sofa. 

The  late  Commodore  Vanderbilt  is  re- 
ported to  have  said  :  "  I  have  over  a  dozen 
sons,  and  not  one  is  worth  a  damn."  I 
fear  me  that  every  father  with  sons  grown 
to  manhood  has  at  some  time  voiced  the 
same  sentiment,  curtailed,  possibly,  only 
373 


Timilliam  lb.  SewarO 


as  to  numbers,  and  softened  by  another 
expletive  which  does  not  mitigate  the 
anguish  of  his  cry,  as  he  sees  the  dreams 
he  had  for  his  baby  boys  fade  away  into  a 
mist  of  agonizing  tears. 

And  is  all  this  worry  the  penalty  that 
nature  exacts  for  dreaming  dreams  that 
cannot  in  their  very  nature  come  true  ? 
Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  who  wrote  so 
beautifully  on  child-study,  avoided  the 
risk  of  failure  by  putting  his  children 
into  an  asylum;  several  "Communi- 
ties" since,  have  set  apart  certain  women 
to  be  mothers  to  all,  and  bring  up  and 
care  for  the  young,  and  strangel}',  with 
no  apparent  loss  to  the  children  ;  and 
Bellamy  prophesies  a  day  when  the 
worries  of  parenthood  will  all  be  trans- 
ferred to  a   "committee." 

But  the  worry  is  futile  and  senseless, 
being  born  often  of  a  blindness  that  will 
not  wait.  Man  has  not  only  "Seven 
Ages,"  but  many  more,  and  he  must  pass 
through  this  one  before  the  next  arrives. 
The  Commodore  certainly  possessed  what 
374 


XlClllliam  IF).  ScwarD 


is  called  horse-sense,  and  if  his  concep- 
tions of  character  had  been  clearer,  he 
might  have  realized  that  in  more  waj'S 
than  one  the  abilities  of  his  sons  were 
going  to  be  greater  than  his  own.  His 
eldest  son  was,  nevertheless,  banished  to 
a  Ivong  Island  farm  on  a  pension,  "be- 
cause he  could  not  be  trusted  to  do  busi- 
ness." The  same  son  once  modestly 
asked  the  Commodore  if  he  would  allow 
him  to  have  the  compost  that  had  been 
for  a  year  accumulating  outside  the  Fifth 
Avenue  barns.  "Just  one  load,  and  no 
more,"  said  pater.  William  thereupon 
took  twenty  teams  and  as  many  men, 
and  transferred  the  entire  pile  to  a  barge 
moored  in  the  river.  It  was  a  barge-load. 
And  when  pater  saw  what  had  been  done, 
he  said,  "  The  boy  is  not  so  big  a  fool  as 
I  thought."  The  boy  was  forty-five  ere 
death  put  him  in  possession  of  the  gold 
that  the  father  no  longer  had  use  for, 
there  being  no  pockets  in  a  shroud,  and 
he  then  showed  that  as  a  financier  he 
could  have  given  his  father  points,  for  in 
375 


MUliam  lb.  Gewaro 


a  few  years  he  doubled  the  millions  and 
drove  horses  faster  without  a  break  than 
his  father  had  ever  ridden. 

Seward's  father  was  a  doctor,  justice  of 
the  peace,  merchant,  and  the  general  first 
citizen  of  the  village  of  Florida,  Orange 
County,  New  York.  And  he  had  no  more 
confidence  in  his  boy  William  than  Van- 
derbilt  had  in  his.  He  educated  him  only 
because  the  lad  was  not  strong  enough  to 
work,  and  it  seems  to  have  been  the  firm 
belief  that  the  boy  would  come  to  no  good 
end.  In  order  to  discipline  him,  the  fa- 
ther put  the  youngster  in  college  on  such 
a  scanty  allowance  that  the  lad  was 
obliged  to  run  away  and  go  to  teaching 
school  in  order  to  be  free  from  financial 
humiliation.  Here  was  the  best  possible 
proof  that  the  young  man  had  the  germs 
of  excellence  in  him  ;  but  the  father  took 
it  as  a  proof  of  depravity,  and  sent  warn- 
ing letters  to  the  young  school-teacher's 
friends  threatening  them  "  not  to  harbor 
the  scapegrace." 

The  years  went  by  and  the  parental  dis- 
376 


muitam  lb.  ScvvarD 


trust  slackened  very  little.  The  boy  was 
slim  and  slender  and  his  hair  was  tow- 
colored  and  his  head  too  big  for  his  body. 
He  had  gotten  a  goodly  smattering  of  ed- 
ucation some  way  and  was  intent  on  be- 
ing a  lawyer.  He  seemed  to  know  that 
if  he  was  to  succeed  he  must  get  well 
away  from  the  parent  nest,  and  out  of 
the  reach  of  daily  advice. 

His  desire  was  to  go  "  Out  West,"  and 
the  particular  objective  point  was  Auburn, 
New  York. 

The  father  gave  him  fifty  dollars  as  a 
starter,  with  the  final  word,  "  I  expect 
you  '11  be  back  all  too  soon." 

And  so  young  vSeward  started  away, 
with  high  hopes  and  a  firm  determina- 
tion that  he  would  agreeably  disappoint 
his  parents  by  not  going  back. 

He  reached  Albany  by  steamboat,  and 
embarked  on  a  sumptuous  canal  packet 
that  bore  a  waving  banner  on  which  were 
the  words  woven  in  gold,  "  Westward 
Ho  !  " 

And  he  has  slyly  told  us  how,  as  he 
377 


MilUam  lb.  Seward 


stepped  aboard  that  "  inland  palace,"  he 
bethought  him  of  having  written  a  thesis, 
three  years  before,  proving  that  DeWitt 
Clinton's  chimera  of  joining  the  Hudson 
and  Lake  Erie  was  an  idea  both  fictile 
and  fibrous.  But  the  inland  palace  car- 
ried him  safely  and  surely.  He  reached 
Auburn,  and  instead  of  writing  home  for 
more  money,  returned  that  which  he  had 
borrowed.  The  father,  who  was  a  pretty 
good  man  in  every  way,  quite  beyond  the 
average  in  intellect,  lived  to  see  his  son 
in  the  United  States  Senate. 

And  the  moral  for  parents  is  :  Don't 
worry  about  your  children.  You  were 
young  once,  even  if  you  have  forgotten 
the  fact.  Boys  will  be  boys  and  girls  will 
be  girls — but  not  forever.  Have  patience, 
and  remember  that  this  present  brood  is 
not  the  first  generation  that  has  been 
brought  forth.  There  have  been  others, 
and  each  has  been  very  much  like  the 
one  that  passed  before.  The  sentiment 
of  Pippa  Passes  holds  :  "  God  's  in  His 
Heaven,  all's  right  with  the  world." 

378 


in. 

IN  1834,  Seward  was  the  Whig  candidate 
for  Governor  of  New  York.  He  was 
defeated  by  W.  Iv.  Marcy.  Four  years 
later  he  was  again  a  candidate  against 
Marcy  and  defeated  him  by  ten  thousand 
majority.  He  was  then  thirty-six  years 
of  age,  and  was  counted  one  of  the  very 
first  among  the  lawyers  of  the  State,  and 
in  accepting  the  office  of  governor  he 
made  decided  financial  sacrifices. 

Seward  was  a  man  of  positive  ideas, 
and,  although  not  arbitrary  in  manner, 
yet  had  a  silken  strength  of  will  that 
made  great  rents  in  the  mesh  of  other 
men's  desires.  Before  a  court,  his  quiet 
but  firm  persistence  along  a  certain  line 
often  dictated  the  verdict.  The  faculty 
of  grasping  a  point  firmly  and  securely 
was  his  in  marked  measure.  And  any 
379 


Milliam  lb.  SewarD 


man  who  can  quietly  override  the  wishes 
and  ambitions  of  other  men  is  first  well 
feared,  and  then  thoroughly  hated. 

One  of  Seward's  first  efforts  on  becom- 
ing governor  was  to  insure  a  common- 
school  education  among  the  children  of 
every  class,  and  especially  among  the 
foreign  population  of  large  cities.  To 
this  end  he  advocated  a  distribution  of 
public  funds  among  all  schools  estab- 
lished with  that  object  ;  and  if  he  were 
alive  to-day  it  is  quite  needless  to  say 
he  would  not  belong  to  the  A.  P.  A.  nor 
to  any  secret  society.  He  knew  too  much 
of  all  religious  to  have  complete  faith  in 
any,  yet  his  appreciation  of  the  fact  that 
the  Catholics  minister  to  the  needs  of  a 
class  that  no  other  denomination  reaches 
or  can  control  was  outspoken  and  plain. 
This,  with  his  connection  with  the  Anti- 
Masonic  Party,  brought  upon  his  name  a 
stigma  that  was  at  last  to  defeat  him  for 
the  presidency. 

Seward's   clear  insight  into    practical 
things,  backed  by  the  quiet  working  en- 
360 


SIATUE   OF   SEWARD,    Madison  Square,  New  York. 


■WHllliam  lb.  SewarJ) 


ergy  of  his  nature,  brought  about  many 
changes,  and  the  changes  he  effected  and 
the  reforms  he  inaugurated  must  ever 
rank  his  name  high  among  statesmen. 

By  his  influence  the  law's  delay  in  the 
courts  of  chancery  was  curtailed,  and  this 
prepared  the  way  for  radical  changes  in 
the  constitution.  He  inaugurated  the 
geological  survey  that  led  to  making 
"Potsdam  outcrop"  classic,  and  "Me- 
dina sandstone "  a  product  that  is  so 
known  wherever  a  man  goes  forth  in 
the  iields  of  earth  carrying  a  geologist's 
hammer. 

Largely  through  his  efforts,  a  safe  and 
general  banking  system  was  brought 
about ;  and  the  establishment  of  a  lunatic 
asylum  was  one  of  the  best  items  to  his 
credit  during  that  first  term  as  governor. 
But  there  was  one  philological  change 
that  proved  too  great  even  for  his  gen- 
eralship. The  word  "lunacy,"  as  we 
know,  comes  from  "  luna,"  the  belief  be- 
ing in  the  good  old  days  that  the  moon 
exercised  a  profound  influence  on  the 
381 


xnatlliam  1b.  SevvarD 


wits  of  sundry  people.  I  'm  told  that  the 
idea  still  holds  good  in  certain  quarters, 
and  that  if  the  wind  is  east  and  the  moon 
shows  a  horn  on  which  you  can  hang  a 
flat-iron,  certain  persons  are  looked  upon 
askance  and  the  children  cautioned  to 
avoid  them. 

Seward  said  that  insane  people  were 
simply  those  who  were  mentally  ill,  and 
that  "Hospital  "  was  the  proper  term. 
But  the  classicists  said,  "  Nay,  na}',  Wil- 
liam Henry,  you  have  had  your  way 
in  many  things  and  here  we  will  now 
have  ours."  It  has  taken  us  full  half 
a  century  officially  to  make  the  change, 
and  the  plain  folks  from  the  hills  still 
refuse  to  ratify  it,  and  will  for  many  a 
lustrum. 

It  was  during  Seward's  administration 
that  the  "debtors'  prison  "  was  done  away 
with,  and  it  was,  too,  through  his  earnest 
recommendation  that  the  last  trace  of 
law  for  slaveholding  was  wiped  from  the 
statute-hooks  of  the  State  of  New  York. 

The  question  of  slavery  was  taken  up 
3S2 


milliaiii  If?,  toewaro 


most  exhaustively  in  what  was  known  as 
the  '■  Virginia  Controversy."  This  in- 
teresting correspondence  can  be  seen  in  a 
stout  volume  in  most  public  libraries.  It 
is  a  series  of  letters  that  passed  between 
Governor  Seward  of  New  York  and  the 
Governor  of  Virginia,  as  to  the  requisition 
of  two  persons  in  New  York  charged  by 
the  Governor  of  Virginia  with  abducting 
slaves.  Seward  made  the  patent  point, 
and  backed  it  up  with  a  forest  of  reasons 
in  politest  English,  that  the  accused  per- 
sons being  charged  with  abducting  slaves, 
and  there  being  no  such  things  as  slaves 
known  in  New  York,  no  person  in  New 
York  could  be  apprehended  for  stealing 
slaves — for  slaves  were  things  that  had 
no  existence. 

Then  did  the  Governor  of  Virginia 
admit  that  slaves  could  not  be  abducted 
in  New  York  ;  but  he  proceeded  to  ex- 
plain in  lusty  tomes  that  slavery  legally 
existed  in  Virginia,  and  that  if  slaves 
were  abducted  in  Virginia,  the  criminal 
nature  of  the  act  could  not  be  shaken  off 
383 


"Wnilliam  lb.  SewarD 


because  the  accused  changed  his  geo- 
graphical base.  Seward  was  a  prince  of 
logicians  :  the  subtleties  of  reasoning  and 
the  smoke  of  rhetoric  were  to  his  fancy, 
and  although  there  is  not  a  visible  smile 
in  the  whole  "Virginia  Controversy,"  I 
cannot  but  think  that  his  sleeves  were 
puffed  with  laughter  as  he  searched  the 
universe  for  reasons  to  satisfy  the  haughty 
First  Families  of  Virginia.  And  all  the 
while,  please  note  that  he  held  the  al- 
leged abductors  safe  and  secure  'gainst 
harm's  way. 

In  this  correspondence  he  placed  him- 
self on  record  as  an  Abolitionist  of  the 
Abolitionists  ;  and  the  name  of  Seward 
became  listed  then  and  there  for  ven- 
geance— or  immortality.  The  subject  had 
been  forced  upon  him,  and  he  then  ex- 
pressed the  sentiment  that  he  continued 
to  voice  until  1865,  that  America  could 
not  exist  half-free  and  half-slave.  It  must 
be  a  land  of  slaveholders  and  slaves,  or 
a  land  of  freemen — he  was  fully  and  ir- 
revocably committed  to  the  cause. 
384 


•wnuiiam  lb.  SewarD 


In  1840,  he  was  re-elected  governor. 
The  second  administration  was  marked, 
as  was  the  first,  by  a  vigorous  policy  of 
pushing  forward  public  improvements. 

At  the  close  of  his  second  term  Seward 
found  his  personal  affairs  in  rather  an 
unsettled  condition,  the  expenses  of  of- 
ficial position  having  exceeded  his  in- 
come. He  had  had  a  goodly  taste  of  the 
ingratitude  of  republics,  and  philosopher 
though  he  was,  he  was  yet  too  young  to 
know  that  his  experience  iu  well-doing 
was  not  unique,  a  fact  he  came  to  com- 
prehend full  well,  in  later  years.  And  so 
he  did  that  very  human  thing — declared 
his  intention  of  retiring  permanently 
from  public  life. 

Once  back  at  Auburn,  clients  flocked 
to  him,  and  he  took  his  pick  of  business. 
And  yet  we  find  that  public  affairs  were 
in  his  mind.  Vexed  questions  of  State 
policy  were  brought  to  him  to  decide, 
and  journeys  were  made  to  Ohio  and 
Michigan  in  the  interests  of  men  charged 
with  slave-stealing.  There  was  little 
385 


luatUiam  lb.  SewacD 

money  in  such  practice  and  small  honors, 
but  his  heart  was  in  the  work. 

In  1844,  Seward  entered  with  much 
zest  into  the  canvass  in  behalf  of  Henry 
Clay  for  President,  as  he  thought  Clay's 
election  would  surely  lead  the  way  to 
general  emancipation. 

In  1848,  he  supported  General  Taylor 
with  equal  energy.  When  Taylor  was 
elected  there  proved  to  be  much  opposi- 
tion to  him  among  the  members  from  the 
South,  in  both  the  Senate  and  House  of 
Representatives.  The  administration  felt 
the  need  of  being  backed  by  strong  men 
in  the  Senate — men  who  could  think  on 
their  feet,  and  carry  a  point  when  neces- 
sary against  the  opposition  that  sought  to 
confuse  and  embarrass  the  friends  of  the 
administration  with  tireless  wind-mill 
elocution.  From  Washington  came  the 
urgent  request  that  Seward  should  be 
sent  to  the  United  States  Senate.  In 
1849,  he  was  chosen  senator  and  from 
the  first  became  the  trusted  leader  of  the 
administration  party. 
386 


Ticmiiam  1b.  SewarD 


The  year  after  Seward's  election  to  the 
Senate,  President  Taylor  died  and  Vice- 
President  Fillmore  (who  had  the  happi- 
ness to  live  at  the  village  of  East  Aurora, 
New  York)  acceded  to  the  office,  but 
Seward  still  remained  leader  of  the  Anti- 
Slavery  Party. 

Seward's  second  term  as  United  States 
Senator  closed  in  1861.  In  1855,  when 
his  first  term  expired,  there  was  a  very 
strenuous  effort  made  against  his  re- 
election. His  strong  and  continued  anti- 
slavery  position  had  caused  him  to  be 
thoroughly  hated  both  North  and  South. 
He  was  spoken  of  as  "a  seditious  agita- 
tor and  dangerous  man." 

But  in  spite  of  opposition  he  was  again 
sent  back  to  Washington.  Small,  slim, 
gentle,  modest,  and  low-voiced,  he  was 
pointed  out  in  Pennsylvania  Avenue  as 
"  One  who  reads  much  and  sees  quite 
through  the  deeds  of  men." 

Men  who  are  well  traduced  and  hotly 
denounced  are  usually  pretty  good  quality. 
No  better  encomium  is  needed  ihau  the 
387 


Mllliam  1b.  SewacD 


detraction  of  some  people.  And  men 
who  are  well  bated  also  have  friends 
who  love  them  well.  Thus  does  the  law 
of  compensation  ever  live. 

In  1856,  there  was  a  goodly  little  de- 
monstration in  favor  of  Seward  for  Presi- 
dent, but  the  idea  of  running  such  a 
radical  for  the  chief  office  of  the  people 
was  quickly  downed  ;  and  Seward  him- 
self knew  the  temper  of  the  times  too 
well  to  take  the  matter  very  seriously. 

But  the  years  between  1856  and  i860 
were  years  of  agitation  and  earnest 
thought,  and  the  idea  that  slavery  was 
merely  a  local  question  was  getting  both 
depolarized  and  dehorned.  The  non-slave- 
holding  North  was  rubbing  its  sleepy 
eyes,  and  asking,  Who  is  this  man  Sew- 
ard, anyway  ?  The  belief  was  growing 
that  Seward,  Garrison,  Sumner,  and  Phil- 
lips were  something  more  than  self-seek- 
ing agitators,  and  many  declared  them 
true  patriots. 

In  every  town  and  city,  in  every  North- 
ern State,  political  clubs  sprang  into 
388 


TKHllliam  lb.  ScwarD 


being  and  their  battle-cry  was  "Sew- 
ard !  "  It  seemed  to  be  a  foregone  con- 
clusion that  Seward  would  be  the  next 
President.  When  the  convention  met, 
the  first  ballot  showed  173  votes  for 
Seward  and  102  for  Lincoln,  the  rest, 
scattering.  But  Seward's  friends  had 
marshaled  their  entire  strength— all  the 
rest  was  opposition — while  Lincoln  was 
an  unknown  quantity. 

When  the  news  went  forth  that  Lincoln 
was  nominated,  Seward  received  the  tid- 
ings in  his  library  at  Auburn  ;  and  the 
myth-makers  have  told  us  that  he  cried 
aloud,  and  that  the  carved  lions  on  his 
gate-posts  shed  salty  tears.  But  Seward 
knew  the  opposition  to  his  name  and  was 
of  too  stern  a  moral  fibre  to  fix  his  heart 
upon  the  result  of  a  wire-pulling  conven- 
tion. The  motto  of  his  life  had  been,  Be 
prepared  for  the  unexpected.  It  may 
be  that  the  lions  on  the  gate-posts  shed 
tears  ;  and  it  is  possible  there  was  weep- 
ing in  the  Seward  household — but  not 
by  Seward. 

389 


Milliam  lb.  SewacD 

He  entered  upon  a  hearty  and  vigorous 
campaign  in  support  of  Lincoln — mak- 
ing a  tour  through  the  West  and  being 
greeted  everywhere  with  an  enthusiasm 
that  rivaled  that  showu  for  the  candidate. 

When  Lincoln  was  elected,  his  wisdom 
was  at  once  manifest  in  securing  Seward 
as  his  Secretary  of  State.  The  record  of 
those  troublous  times  and  the  masterly 
way  in  which  Seward  served  his  country 
are  too  vivid  in  the  minds  of  men  to 
need  reviewing  here,  but  the  regard  of 
Lincoln  for  this  man,  who  so  well  com- 
plemented his  own  needs,  is  worthy  of 
our  remembrance.  Seward  was  the  only 
member  of  Lincoln's  first  Cabinet  who 
stood  by  him  straight  through  and 
entered  the  second. 

Early  in  April,  1865,  Seward  met  with 
a  serious  accident  by  being  thrown  from 
his  carriage  and  dashed  against  the  curb- 
stone. One  arm  and  both  jaws  were 
fractured,  besides  being  badly  bruised 
in  other  parts  of  his  body. 

On  April  13th,  Lincoln  returned  from 
390 


"Watlliam  t).  ScwarD 


his  trip  to  Richmond,  where  he  had  had 
an  interview  with  Grant.  That  evening 
he  walked  over  from  the  White  House 
to  Seward's  residence.  The  stricken  man 
was  totally  unable  to  converse,  but  Lin- 
coln, sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and 
holding  the  old  man's  thin  hands,  told 
in  solemn,  serious  monotone  of  the  end- 
ing of  the  war  ;  of  what  he  had  seen  and 
heard  ;  of  the  plans  he  had  made  for 
sending  soldiers  home  and  providing 
for  an  army  whipped  and  vanquished, 
and  of  what  was  best  to  do  to  bind  up 
a  nation's  wounds. 

Five  years  before,  these  two  men  had 
stood  before  the  world  as  rivals.  Then 
they  joined  hands  as  friends,  and  during 
the  four  years  of  strife  and  blood  had 
met  each  day  and  advised  and  counseled 
concerning  every  great  detail.  Their 
opinions  often  diflfered  widely,  but  there 
was  always  frank  expression  and,  in  the 
main,  their  fears  and  doubts  and  hopes 
had  all  been  one. 

But  now  at  last  the  smoke  had  cleared 
391 


muiiam  lb.  SewarO 


away,  and  they  had  won.  The  victory 
had  been  too  dearly  bought  for  proud 
boast  or  vain  exultation,  but  victory  still 
it  was. 

And  as  the  strong  and  homely  Lin- 
coln told  the  tale  the  stricken  man  could 
answer  back  only  by  pressure  of  a  hand. 

At  last  the  presence  of  the  nurse  told 
Lincoln  it  was  time  to  go ;  in  grave 
jest  he  half  apologized  for  his  long  stay, 
and  told  of  a  man  in  Sangamon  County 
who  used  to  say  there  is  no  medicine 
like  good  news.  And  rumor  has  it  that 
he  then  stooped  and  kissed  the  sick 
man's  cheek. 

And  then  he  went  his  way. 

The  next  night  at  the  same  hour  a 
man  entered  the  Seward  home,  saying 
that  he  had  been  sent  with  messages 
by  the  doctor.  Being  refused  admittance 
to  the  sick-chamber,  he  drew  a  pistol 
and  endeavored  to  shoot  Seward's  son 
who  guarded  the  door  ;  but  being  foiled 
in  this  he  crushed  the  young  man's  skull 
with  the  heavy  weapon,  and  springing 
392 


Milliam  lb.  SewarO 


over  his  body  dashed  at  the  emaciated 
figure  of  Seward  with  uplifted  dagger. 
A  dozen  times  he  struck  at  the  face  and 
throat  and  breast  of  the  almost  dying 
man,  and  then  thinking  he  had  done 
his  work  made  rapidly  away. 

At  the  same  time,  linked  by  fate  in  a 
sort  of  poetic  justice,  with  the  thought 
that  if  one  deserved  death  so  did  the 
other,  hate  had  with  surer  aim  sent  an 
assassin's  bullet  home, — and  Ivincoln 
died. 

Weeks  passed  and  the  strong  vitality 
that  had  served  Seward  in  such  good 
stead  did  not  forsake  him.  Men  of  his 
stamp  are  hard  to  kill. 

On  a  beautiful  May-day,  Seward,  so 
reduced  that  a  woman  carried  him,  was 
taken  out  on  the  veranda  of  his  house 
and  watched  that  sohd  mass  of  glittering 
steel  and  faded  blue  that  moved  through 
Pennsylvania  Avenue  in  triumphal 
march.  Sherman  with  head  uncovered 
rode  down  to  Seward's  home,  saluted, 
and  then  back  to  join  his  goodly  com- 
393 


imilliam  IFd.  SewarO 


pany,  and  manj'  others  of  lesser  note 
did  the  same. 

Health  and  strength  came  slowly  back, 
and  happy  was  the  day  when  he  was 
carried  to  the  office  of  Secretary  of  State 
and,  propped  in  his  chair,  again  began 
his  work.  Another  President  had  come, 
but  meet  it  was  that  the  Secretary  of 
State  should  still  hold  his  place. 

Seward  lived  full  eleven  years  after  that, 
seemingly  dragging  with  unquenched 
spirit  that  slashed  and  broken  form. 
But  the  glint  did  not  fade  from  his  eye, 
nor  did  the  proud  head  lose  its  poise. 

He  died  in  his  office  among  his  books 
and  papers,  saue  and  sensible  up  to  the 
very  moment  when  his  spirit  took  its 
flight. 


394 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 


395 


The  world  will  little  note,  nor  long  remember, 
what  we  say  here,  but  it  can  never  forget  what 
they  did  here.  It  is  for  us,  the  living,  rather  to  be 
dedicated  here  to  the  unfinished  work  which 
they  who  fought  here  have  thus  far  so  nobly  ad- 
vanced. It  is  rather  for  us  to  be  here  dedicated 
to  the  great  task  remaining  before  us,  that  from 
these  honored  dead  we  take  increased  devotion 
to  the  cause  for  which  they  gave  the  last  full 
measure  of  devotion  ;  that  we  here  highly  resolve 
that  these  dead  shall  not  have  died  in  vain  ;  that 
this  nation,  under  God,  shall  have  a  new  birth  of 
freedom,  and  the  government  of  the  people,  by 
the  people,  and  for  the  people,  shall  not  perish 
from  the  earth. 

Speech  at  Gettysburg. 


396 


ABRAHAM   LINCOLN. 


No,  dearie,  I  do  not  think  my  child- 
hood differed  much  from  that 
of  other  good  healthy  country 
youngsters.  I  've  heard  folks  say  that 
childhood  has  its  sorrows  and  all  that, 
but  the  sorrows  of  country  children  do 
not  last  long.  The  young  rustic  goes 
out  and  tells  his  troubles  to  the  birds  and 
flowers,  and  the  flowers  nod  in  recogni- 
tion, and  the  robin  that  sings  from  the 
top  of  a  tall  poplar  tree  when  the  sun 
goes  down,  says  plainly  it  has  sorrows  of 
its  own — and  understands. 

I  feel  a  pity  for  all   those   folks  who 
were   born  in   a  big   city,  and  thus  got 
cheated  out  of  their  childhood.     Zealous 
397 


Bbrabam  Xincoln 


ash-box  inspectors  in  gilt  braid,  prying 
policemen  with  clubs,  and  signs  reading, 
"Keep  ofT  the  Grass,"  are  woful  things 
to  greet  the  gaze  of  little  souls  fresh  from 
God. 

Last  summer  six  "Fresh  Airs"  were 
sent  out  to  my  farm,  from  the  Eighth 
Ward.  Half  an  hour  after  their  arrival, 
one  of  them,  a  little  girl  five  years  old, 
who  had  constituted  herself  mother  of 
the  party,  came  rushing  into  the  house 
exclaiming,  "Say,  Mister,  Jimmy  Dris- 
coll  he  's  walkin'  on  de  grass  !  " 

I  well  remember  the  first  Keep-off-the- 
Grass  sign  I  ever  saw.  It  was  in  a  printed 
book ;  it  was  n't  exactly  a  sign,  only  a  pict- 
ure of  a  sign,  and  the  single  excuse  I  could 
think  of  for  such  a  notice  was  that  the  field 
was  full  of  bumble-bee  nests,  and  the 
owner,  being  a  good  man  and  kind,  did  not 
want  barefoot  boys  to  add  bee-stings  to 
stone-bruises.  And  I  never  now  see  one 
of  those  signs  but  that  I  glance  at  my 
feet  to  make  sure  that  I  have  shoes  on. 

Given  the  liberty  of  the  country,  the 
398 


Bbrabam  Xlncolii 

child  is  very  near  to  Nature's  heart ;  he 
is  brother  to  the  tree  and  calls  all  the 
dumb,  growing  things  by  name.  He  is 
sublimely  superstitious.  His  imagination, 
as  yet  untouched  by  disillusion,  makes 
good  all  that  earth  lacks,  and  habited  in 
a  healthy  body  the  soul  siugs  and  soars. 

In  childhood,  magic  and  mystery  lie 
close  around  us.  The  world  in  which  we 
live  is  a  panorama  of  constantly  unfold- 
ing delights,  our  faith  in  the  Unknown  is 
limitless,  and  the  words  of  Job,  uttered  in 
mankind's  morning,  fit  our  wondering 
mood  :  "  He  stretcheth  out  the  north  over 
the  empty  place  ;  and  hangeth  the  earth 
upon  nothing." 

I  am  old,  dearie,  very  old.  In  my 
childhood  much  of  the  State  of  Illinois 
was  a  prairie,  where  wild  grass  waved 
and  bowed  before  the  breeze,  like  the 
tide  of  a  summer  sea.  I  remember  when 
"relatives"  rode  miles  and  miles  in 
springless  farm-wagons  to  visit  cousins, 
taking  the  whole  family  and  staying  two 
nights  and  a  day  ;  when  books  were 
399 


Bbrabam  Xincoln 


things  to  be  read  ;  when  the  beaver  and 
buffalo  were  not  extinct  ;  when  wild 
pigeons  came  in  clouds  that  shadowed 
the  sun  ;  when  steamboats  ran  ou  the  San- 
gamon ;  when  Bishop  Simpson  preached  ; 
when  hell  was  a  place,  not  a  theory,  and 
heaven  a  locality  whose  fortunate  inhab- 
itants had  no  work  to  do  ;  when  Chicago 
newspapers  were  ten  cents  each  ;  when 
cotton  cloth  was  fifty  cents  a  yard,  and 
my  shirt  was  made  from  a  flour  sack, 
with  the  legend,  "Extra  XXX  "  across  my 
proud  bosom,  and  just  below  the  words 
in  flaming  red,  "  Warranted  Fifty 
Pounds ! ' ' 

The  mornings  usually  opened  with 
smothered  protests  against  getting  up, 
for  country  folks  then  were  extremists 
in  the  matter  of  early-to-bed,  early-to- 
rise,  makes-a-man-healthy-wealthy-and 
wise.  We  had  n't  much  wealth,  nor 
were  we  very  wise,  but  we  had  health  to 
burn.  But  aside  from  the  unpleasantness 
of  early  morning,  the  day  was  full  of  pos- 
sibilities ot  curious  things  to  be  found  in 
400 


abrabam  Eiiicoln 


the  barn  and  under  spreading  gooseberry 
bushes,  or  if  it  rained,  the  garret  was  an 
Alsatia  unexplored. 

The  evolution  of  the  individual  mirrors 
the  evolution  of  the  race.  In  the  morn- 
ing of  the  world  man  was  innocent  and 
free  ;  but  when  self-consciousness  crept 
in  and  he  possessed  himself  of  that  dis- 
turbing motto,  "Know  Thyself,"  he 
took  a  fall. 

Yet  knowledge  usually  comes  to  us 
with  a  shock,  just  as  the  mixture  crystal- 
izes  when  the  chemist  gives  the  jar  a  tap. 
We  grow  by  throes. 

I  well  remember  the  day  when  I  was 
put  out  of  my  Eden. 

My  father  and  mother  had  gone  away 
in  the  one-horse  wagon,  taking  the  baby 
with  them,  leaving  me  in  care  of  my 
elder  sister.  It  was  a  stormy  day  and  the 
air  was  full  of  fog  and  mist.  It  did  not 
rain  very  nmch,  only  in  gusts,  but  great 
leaden  clouds  chased  each  other  angrily 
across  the  sky.  It  was  very  quiet  there 
in  the  little  house  on  the  prairie,  except- 
401 


Bbrabam  ILlncoln 


iag  when  the  wiud  came  and  shook  the 
windows  and  rattled  at  the  doors.  The 
morning  seemed  to  drag  and  would  n't 
pass  just  out  of  contrariness ;  and  I 
wanted  it  to  go  fast  because  in  the  after- 
noon my  sister  was  to  take  me  some- 
where, but  where  I  did  not  know,  but 
that  we  should  go  somewhere  was 
promised  again  and  again. 

As  the  day  wore  on  we  went  up  into 
the  little  garret  and  strained  our  eyes 
across  the  stretching  prairie  to  see  if 
someone  was  coming.  There  had  been 
much  rain,  for  on  the  prairie  there  was 
always  too  much  rain  or  else  too  little. 
It  was  either  drouth  or  flood.  Dark 
swarms  of  wild  ducks  were  in  all  the 
ponds ;  V-shaped  flocks  of  geese  and 
brants  screamed  overhead,  and  down  in 
the  slough  cranes  danced  a  solemn 
minuet. 

Again  and  again  we  looked  for  the 
coming  something,  and  I  began  to  cry, 
fearing  we  had  been  left  there,  forgotten 
of  fate. 

402 


■■-*;?-j^'^' 


■-3»»«*C5^ '  ■    /"■*     ■     ■'        .''1 


-w 


abrabam  Xtncotn 


At  last  we  went  out  by  the  barn  and, 
with  much  boosting,  I  climbed  to  the  top 
of  the  haystack  and  my  sister  followed. 
And  still  we  watched. 

"There  they  come!"  exclaimed  my 
sister. 

"There  they  come!"  I  echoed,  and 
clapped  two  red,  chapped  hands  for  joy. 

Away  across  the  prairie,  miles  and 
miles  away,  was  a  winding  string  of 
wagons,  a  dozen  perhaps,  one  right  be- 
hind another.  We  watched  until  we 
could  make  out  our  own  white  horse, 
Bob,  and  then  we  slid  down  the  hickory- 
pole  that  leaned  against  the  stack,  and 
made  our  way  across  the  spongy  sod  to 
the  burying-ground  that  stood  on  a  knoll 
half  a  mile  away. 

We  got  there  before  the  procession, 
and  saw  a  great  hole,  with  square  corners, 
dug  in  the  ground.  It  was  half  full  of 
water,  and  a  man  in  Vjare  feet,  with  trous- 
ers rolled  to  his  knees,  was  working  in- 
dustriously to  bale  it  out. 

The  wagons  drove  up  and  stopped. 
403 


Bbrabam  Xincoln 

And  out  of  one  of  them  four  men  lifted 
a  long  box  and  set  it  down  beside  the 
hole  where  the  man  still  baled  and 
dipped.  The  box  was  opened  and  in  it 
was  Si  Johnson.  Si  lay  very  still,  and  his 
face  was  verj-  blue,  and  his  clothes  were 
very  black,  save  for  his  shirt,  which  was 
very  white,  and  his  hands  were  folded 
across  his  breast,  just  so,  and  held  awk- 
wardh-  in  the  stiff  fingers  was  a  little 
New  Testament.  We  all  looked  at  the 
blue  face,  and  the  women  cried  softly. 
The  men  took  off  their  hats  while  the 
preacher  prayed  ;  and  then  we  sang, 
"  There  '11  be  no  more  parting  there." 

The  lid  of  the  box  was  nailed  down, 
lines  were  taken  from  the  harness  of  one 
of  the  teams  standing  by,  and  were  placed 
around  the  long  box,  and  it  was  lowered 
with  a  splash  into  the  hole.  Then  sev- 
eral men  seized  spades  and  the  clods  fell 
with  clatter  and  echo.  The  men  shoveled 
verj-  hard,  filling  up  the  hole,  and  when 
it  was  full  and  heaped  up,  they  patted  it 
all  over  with  the  back  of  their  spades. 
404 


Bbrabam  Xtncolu 


Everybody  remained  uutil  this  was 
done,  and  then  we  got  into  the  wagons 
and  drove  away. 

Nearly  a  dozen  ol  the  folks  came  over 
to  our  house  for  dinner,  including  the 
preacher,  and  they  all  talked  of  the  man 
who  was  dead  and  how  he  came  to  die. 

Only  two  days  before,  this  man,  Si 
Johnson,  stood  in  the  doorway  of  his 
house  and  looked  out  at  the  falling  rain. 
It  had  rained  for  three  days,  so  that  they 
could  not  plough,  and  Si  was  angry.  Be- 
sides this,  his  two  brothers  had  enlisted 
and  gone  away  to  the  war  and  left  him  all 
the  work  to  do.  He  did  not  go  to  the 
war  because  he  was  a  "  Copperhead  "  ; 
and  as  he  stood  there  in  the  doorway 
looking  at  the  rain,  he  took  a  chew  of 
tobacco,  and  then  he  swore  a  terrible 
oath. 

And  ere  the  swear  words  had  escaped 
from  his  lips,  there  came  a  blinding  flash 
of  lightning,  and  the  man  fell  all  in  a 
heap  like  a  sack  of  oats. 

And  he  was  dead. 

405 


Bbrabam  Xincoln 


Whether  he  died  because  he  was  a 
Copperhead,  or  because  he  took  a  chew 
of  tobacco,  or  because  he  swore,  I  could 
not  exactly  understand.  I  waited  for  a 
convenient  lull  in  the  conversation  and 
asked  the  preacher  why  the  man  died,  and 
he  patted  me  on  the  head  and  told  me  it 
was  "  the  vengeance  of  God,"  and  that  he 
hoped  I  would  grow  up  and  be  a  good 
man  and  never  chew  tobacco  nor  swear. 

The  preacher  is  alive  now.  He  is  an 
old,  old  man  with  long,  white  whiskers, 
and  I  never  see  him  but  that  I  am  tempted 
to  ask  for  the  exact  truth  as  to  why  Si 
Johnson  was  struck  by  lightning. 

Yet  I  suppose  it  was  because  he  was  a 
Copperhead :  all  Copperheads  chewed 
tobacco  and  swore,  and  that  his  fate  was 
merited  no  one  but  the  living  Copper- 
heads in  that  community  doubted. 

That  was  an  eventful  day  to  me.  Like 
men  whose  hair  turns  from  black  to  gray 
in  a  night,  1  had  left  babyhood  behind  at 
a  bound,  and  the  problems  of  the  world 
were  upon  me,  clamoring  for  solution. 
406 


II. 

THERE  was  war  in  the  land.  When 
it  began  I  did  not  know,  but  that 
it  was  something  terrible  I  could 
guess.  I  thought  of  it  all  the  rest  of  the 
day  and  dreamed  of  it  at  night.  Many 
men  had  gone  away  ;  and  every  day  men 
in  blue  straggled  by,  all  going  south,  for- 
ever south. 

And  all  the  men  straggling  along  that 
road  stopped  to  get  a  drink  at  our  well, 
drawing  the  water  with  the  sweep  and 
drinking  out  of  the  bucket,  and  squirting 
a  mouthful  of  water  over  each  other. 
They  looked  at  my  father's  creaking  doc- 
tor's sign,  and  sang,  "  Old  Mother  Hub- 
bard, she  went  to  the  cupboard." 

They  all  sang  that.      They  were  very 

jolly,  just  as  though  they  were  going  to  a 

picnic.      Some  of  them  came  back  that 

way  a  few  years  later  and  they  were  not 

407 


Bbiabam  Xlticoln 


so  jolly.  And  some  there  were  who  never 
came  back  at  all. 

Freight  trains  passed  southward,  blue 
with  men  in  the  cars  and  on  top  of  the 
cars,  and  on  the  cow-catcher,  and  in  the 
caboose,  always  going  south  and  never 
north.  For  "Down  South"  were  manj* 
Rebels,  and  all  along  the  way  south  were 
Copperheads,  and  they  all  wanted  to  come 
north  and  kill  us,  so  soldiers  had  to  go 
down  there  and  fight  them. 

And  I  marveled  much  that  if  God  hated 
Copperheads,  as  our  preacher  said  He  did, 
why  He  did  n't  send  lightning  and  kill 
them,  just  in  a  second,  as  He  had  Si 
Johnson.  And  then  all  that  would  have 
to  be  done  would  be  to  send  for  a  doctor 
to  see  that  they  were  surely  dead,  and  a 
preacher  to  pray,  and  the  neighbors 
would  dress  them  in  their  best  Sunday 
suits  of  black,  folding  their  hands  very 
carefully  across  their  breasts,  then  we 
would  bury  them  deep,  filling  in  the  dirt 
and  heaping  it  up,  patting  it  all  down 
very  carefully  with  the  back  of  a  spade, 
408 


abrabam  TLincoln 

and  then  go  away  and  leave  them  until 
Judgment  Day. 

Copperheads  were  simply  men  who 
hated  Lincoln.  The  name  came  from 
copperhead  snakes,  that  are  worse  than 
rattlers,  for  rattlers  rattle  and  give  warn- 
ing. A  rattler  is  an  open  enemy,  but  you 
never  know  that  a  copperhead  is  aroimd 
until  he  strikes.  He  lies  low  in  the  swale 
and  watches  his  chance.  "He  is  the 
worstest  snake  that  am." 

It  was  Abe  Lincoln  of  Springfield  who 
was  fighting  the  Rebels  that  were  trying 
to  wreck  the  country  and  spread  red  ruin. 
The  Copperheads  were  wicked  folks  at  the 
north  who  sided  with  the  Rebels.  So- 
ciety was  divided  into  two  classes  :  those 
who  favored  Abe  Lincoln,  and  those  who 
told  lies  about  him.  All  the  people  I 
knew  and  loved,  loved  Abe  Lincoln. 

I  was  born  at  Bloomington,  Illinois, 
through  no  choosing  of  my  own,  and 
Bloomington  is  further  famous  for  being 
the  birthplace  of  the  Republican  party. 
When  a  year  old  I  persuaded  my  parents 
409 


abrabam  ILlncoln 


to  move  seven  miles  north  to  the  village 
of  Hudson,  that  then  had  five  houses,  a 
church,  a  store,  and  a  blacksmith  shop. 
Many  of  the  people  I  knew,  knew  Lin- 
coln, for  he  used  to  come  to  Bloomington 
several  times  a  year  "  on  the  circuit  "  to 
try  cases,  and  at  various  times  made 
speeches  there.  When  he  came  he  would 
tell  stories  at  the  Ashley  House,  and  when 
he  was  gone  these  stories  would  be  re- 
peated by  everybody.  Some  of  these 
stories  must  have  been  peculiar,  for  I 
once  heard  mj'  mother  caution  my  father 
not  to  tell  any  more  "  Ivincolu  stories  "  at 
the  dinner-table  when  we  had  company. 

And  once  Lincoln  gave  a  lecture  at  the 
Presbyterian  church  on  the  "  Progress 
of  Man,"  when  no  one  was  there  but  the 
preacher,  my  Aunt  Hannah,  and  the 
sexton. 

My  Uncle  Elihu  and  Aunt  Hannah 
knew  Abe  Lincoln  well.  So  did  Jesse 
Fell,  James  C.  Conklin,  Judge  Davis, 
General  Orme,  Leonard  Swett,  Dick 
Yates,  and  lots  of  others  I  knew.  They 
410 


-.    o 


Bbrabam  OLincoln 


never  called  him  "Mister  Lincoln,"  but 
it  was  always  Abe,  or  Old  Abe,  or  just 
plain  Abe  Ivincoln.  In  that  newly  settled 
country  you  always  called  folks  by  their 
first  names,  especially  when  you  liked 
them.  And  when  they  spoke  the  name, 
"  Abe  Lincoln,"  there  was  something  in 
the  voice  that  told  of  confidence,  respect, 
and  affection. 

Once  when  I  was  at  my  Aunt  Hannah's, 
Judge  Davis  was  there  and  I  sat  on  his 
lap.  The  only  thing  about  the  interview 
I  remember  was  that  he  really  did  n't 
have  any  lap  to  speak  of. 

After  Judge  Davis  had  gone  Aunt  Han- 
nah said  :  "You  must  always  remember 
Judge  Davis,  for  he  is  the  man  who  made 
Abe  Lincoln  !  " 

And  when  I  said,  "Why,  I  thought 
God  made  Lincoln,"  they  all  laughed. 

After  a  little  pause  my  inquiring  mind 
caused  me  to  ask,  "  Who  made  Judge 
Davis?"  And  Uncle  Elihu  answered, 
"  Abe  Lincoln." 

Then  they  all  laughed  more  than  ever. 
4n 


III. 

VOLUNTEERS   were  being    called 
for.     Neighbors   and    neighbors' 
boys    were    enlisting — going    to 
the  support  of  Abe  Lincoln. 

Then  one  day  my  father  went  away, 
too.  Many  of  the  neighbors  went  with 
us  to  the  station  when  he  took  the  four- 
o'clock  train,  and  we  all  cried,  except 
Mother — she  did  n't  cry  until  she  got 
home.  My  father  had  gone  to  Springfield 
to  enlist  as  a  surgeon.  In  three  days  he 
came  back  and  told  us  he  had  enlisted, 
and  was  to  be  assigned  his  regiment  in  a 
week,  and  go  at  once  to  the  front.  He 
was  always  a  kind  man,  but  during  that 
week  when  he  was  waiting  to  be  told 
where  to  go  he  was  very  gentle  and  more 
kind  than  ever.  He  told  me  I  must  be 
the  man  of  :':e  ''.ouse  while  he  was  away, 
412 


Bbrabam  Xliicoln 


and  take  care  of  my  mother  and  sisters, 
and  not  forget  to  feed  the  chickens  every 
morning  ;  and  I  promised. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  a  big  envelope 
came  from  Springfield  marked  in  the  cor- 
ner "  Official." 

My  mother  would  not  open  it,  and  so  it 
lay  on  the  table  until  the  doctor's  return. 
We  all  looked  at  it  curiously,  and  my 
eldest  sister  gazed  on  it  long  with  lack- 
lustre eye  and  then  rushed  from  the  room 
with  her  check  apron  over  her  head. 

When  my  father  rode  up  ou  horseback 
I  ran  to  tell  him  that  the  envelope  had 
come. 

We  all  stood  breathless  and  watched 
him  break  the  seals. 

He  took  out  the  letter  and  read  it  si- 
lently and  passed  it  to  my  mother. 

I  have  the  letter  before  me  now,  and  it 
says:  "The  Department  is  still  of  the 
opinion  that  it  does  not  care  to  accept 
men  having  varicose  veins,  which  make 
the  wearing  of  bandages  necessary.  Your 
name,  however,  has  been  filed  and 
413 


Bbrabam  Xlncoln 


should  we  be  able  to  use  your  services, 
will  advise." 

Then  we  were  all  very  glad  about  the 
varicose  veins,  and  I  am  afraid  I  went 
out  and  boasted  to  my  play-fellows  about 
our  family  possessions. 

It  was  not  so  very  long  after  that  there 
was  a  Big  Meeting  in  the  "  timber." 
People  came  from  all  over  the  county 
to  attend  it.  The  chief  speaker  was  a 
man  by  the  name  of  Ingersoll,  a  colonel 
in  the  army,  who  was  back  home  for 
just  a  day  or  two  on  furlough.  People 
said  he  was  the  greatest  orator  in  Peoria 
County. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  wagons  began 
to  go  by  our  house,  and  all  along  the  four 
roads  that  led  to  the  grove  we  could  see 
great  clouds  of  dust  that  stretched  away 
for  miles  and  miles  and  told  that  the 
people  were  gathering  by  the  thousand. 
They  came  in  wagons  and  on  horseback? 
and  on  foot  and  with  ox  teams.  Women 
rode  on  horseback  carrying  babies  ;  two 
boys  on  one  horse  were  common  sights  ; 
414 


Bbrabam  OLincolii 


and  there  were  various  four-horse  teams 
with  wagons  filled  with  girls  all  dressed 
in  white,  carrying  flags. 

All  of  our  folks  went.  My  mother  fas- 
tened the  back  door  of  our  house  with  a 
bolt  on  the  inside,  and  then  locked  the 
front  door  with  a  key,  and  hid  the  key 
under  the  door-mat. 

At  the  grove  there  was  nmch  hand- 
shaking and  visiting  and  asking  after 
the  folks  and  for  the  news.  Several  sol- 
diers were  present  ;  among  them  a  man 
who  lived  near  us,  called  "Little  Ram- 
sey." Three  one-armed  men  were  there, 
and  a  man  named  Al  Sweetser,  who  had 
only  one  leg.  These  men  wore  blue,  and 
were  seated  on  the  big  platform  that  was 
all  draped  with  flags.  Plank  seats  were 
arranged,  and  every  plank  held  its  quota. 
Just  outside  the  seats  hundreds  of  men 
stood,  and  beyond  these  were  wagons 
filled  with  people.  Every  tree  in  the 
woods  seemed  to  have  a  horse  tied  to  it, 
and  the  trees  over  the  speakers'  platform 
were  black  with  men  and  boys.  I  never 
4T5 


Bbrabam  Xtncoln 


knew   before   that   there   were   so  many 
horses  and  people  in  the  world. 

When  the  speaking  began  the  people 
cheered,  and  then  they  became  very  quiet, 
and  only  the  occasional  squealing  and 
stamping  of  the  horses  could  be  heard. 
Our  preacher  spoke  first,  and  then  the 
lawyer  from  Bloomington,  and  then  came 
the  great  man  from  Peoria.  The  people 
cheered  more  than  ever  when  he  stood 
up,  and  kept  hurrahing  so  long  I  thought 
they  were  not  going  to  let  him  speak 
at  all. 

At  last  they  quieted  down,  and  the 
speaker  began.  His  first  sentence  con- 
tained a  reference  to  Abe  Lincoln.  The 
people  applauded,  and  someone  proposed 
three  cheers  for  "  Honest  Old  Abe." 
Everybody  stood  up  and  cheered, 
and  I,  perched  on  my  father's  shoulder, 
cheered  too.  And  beneath  the  legend, 
"  Warranted  Fifty  Pounds,"  my  heart 
beat  proudly. 

Silence  came  at  last — a   silence  filled 
only  by   the  neighing  and  stamping  of 
416 


Bbiabam  Ulncoln 

liorses  and  the  rapping  of  a  woodpecker 
in  a  tall  tree.  Every  ear  was  strained  to 
catch  the  orator's  first  words. 

The  speaker  was  just  about  to  begin. 
He  raised  one  hand,  but  ere  his  lips 
moved,  a  hoarse,  guttural  shout  echoed 
through  the  woods  :  "  Hurrah'h'h  for 
Jeff  Davis  !  !  !  " 

"  Kill  that  man  !  "  rang  a  sharp,  clear 
voice  in  instant  answer. 

A  rumble  like  an  awful  groan  came 
from  the  vast  crowd. 

My  father  was  standing  on  a  seat,  and 
I  had  climbed  to  his  shoulder.  The 
crowd  surged  like  a  monster  animal  to- 
ward a  tall  man  standing  alone  in  a 
wagon.  He  swung  a  black-snake  whip 
around  him,  and  the  lash  fell  savagely 
on  two  gray  horses.  At  a  lunge,  the 
horses,  the  wagon,  and  the  tall  man  had 
cleared  the  crowd,  knocking  down  sev- 
eral people  in  their  flight.  One  man 
clung  to  the  tail-board.  The  whip  wound 
with  a  hiss  and  a  crack  across  his  face, 
and  he  fell  stunned  in  the  roadway. 
417 


Sbrabam  Xincoln 


A  clear  space  of  fully  three  hundred 
feet  now  separated  the  man  in  the  wagon 
from  the  great  throng,  that  with  ten  thou- 
sand hands  seemed  ready  to  tear  him  limb 
from  limb.  Revolver  shots  rang  out, 
women  screamed,  and  trampled  children 
cried  for  help.  Above  it  all  was  the  roar 
of  the  mob.  The  orator,  in  vain  panto- 
mime, implored  order. 

I  saw  Little  Ramsey  drop  off  the  limb 
of  a  tree  astride  of  a  horse  that  was 
tied  beneath,  then  lean  over,  and  with 
one  stroke  of  a  knife  sever  the  halter. 

At  the  same  time  fifty  other  men  seemed 
to  have  done  the  same  thing,  for  flying 
horses  shot  out  from  different  parts  of 
the  woods,  all  on  the  instant.  The  man 
in  the  wagon  was  half  a  mile  away  now, 
still  standing  erect.  The  gray  horses 
were  running  low,  with  noses  and  tails 
outstretched. 

The  spread-out  riders  closed  in  a  mass 

and  followed  at  terrific  speed.   The  crowd 

behind  seemed  to  grow  silent.    We  heard 

the  patter-patter  of  barefoot   horses  as- 

418 


Bbiabani  ILiiicoln 


cending  the  long,  low  hill.  One  rider  on 
a  sorrel  horse  fell  behind.  He  drew  his 
horse  to  one  side,  and  sitting  over  with 
one  foot  in  the  long  stirrup,  plied  the 
sorrel  across  the  flank  with  a  big,  white 
felt  hat.  The  horse  responded,  and  crept 
around  to  the  front  of  the  flying  mass. 

The  wagon  had  disappeared  over  a 
gentle  rise  of  ground,  and  then  we  lost 
the  horsemen,  too.  Still  we  watched, 
and  two  miles  across  the  prairie  we  got  a 
glimpse  of  running  horses  in  a  cloud  of 
dust,  and  into  another  valley  they  set- 
tled, and  then  we  lost  them  for  good. 

The  speaking  began  again  and  went  on 
amid  applause  and  tears,  with  laughter 
set  between. 

I  do  not  remember  what  was  said,  but, 
after  the  speaking,  as  we  made  our  way 
homeward,  we  met  Little  Ramsey  and 
the  young  man  who  rode  the  sorrel  horse. 
They  told  us  that  they  caught  the  Copper- 
head after  a  ten-mile  chase,  and  that  he 
was  badly  hurt,  for  the  wagon  had  upset 
and  the  fellow  was  beneath  it.  Ramsey 
419 


Bbrabam  ^Lincoln 


asked  my   father  to  go  at  once  to  see 
what  could  be  done  for  him. 

The  man  was  quite  dead  when  my 
father  reached  him.  There  was  a  purple 
mark  around  his  neck  ;  and  the  opinion 
seetned  to  be  that  he  had  got  tangled  up 
in  the  harness  or  something. 


420 


IV. 

THE  war-time  months  went  dragging 
by,  and  the  burden  of  gloom  in 
the  air  seemed  to  lift  ;  for  when 
the  Chicago  Tribune  was  read  each  even- 
ing in  the  post-office  it  told  of  victories 
on  land  and  sea.  Yet  it  was  a  joy  not 
untinged  with  black  ;  for  in  the  church 
across  from  our  house,  funerals  had  been 
held  for  farmer  boys  who  had  died  in 
prison  pens  and  been  buried  in  Georgia 
trenches. 

One  youth  there  was,  I  remember,  who 
had  stopped  to  get  a  drink  at  our  pump, 
and  squirted  a  mouthful  of  water  over 
me  because  I  was  handy. 

One  night  the  postmaster  was  reading 
aloud  the  names  of  the  killed  at  Gettys- 
burg, and  he  ran  right  on  to  the  name  of 
this  boy.  The  boy's  father  sat  there  on  a 
421 


Bbrabam  Xfncoln 


nail-keg,  chewing  a  straw.  The  post- 
master tried  to  shuffle  over  the  name 
and  on  to  the  next. 

"  Hi  !  Wha — what  's  that  you  said?  " 

"Killed  in  honorable  battle — Snyder, 
Hiram,"  said  the  postmaster  with  a 
forced  calmness,  determined  to  face  the 
issue. 

The  boy's  father  stood  up  with  a  jerk. 
Then  he  sat  down.  Then  he  stood  up 
again  and  staggered  his  way  to  the  door 
and  fumbled  for  the  latch  like  a  blind 
man. 

"  God  help  him  !  he  's  gone  to  tell  the 
old  woman,"  said  the  postmaster  as  he 
blew  his  nose  on  a  red  handkerchief. 

The  preacher  preached  a  funeral  ser- 
mon for  the  boy,  and  on  the  little 
pyramid  that  marked  the  family  lot  in 
the  burying-ground  they  carved  the  in- 
scription :  "Killed  in  honorable  battle, 
Hiram  Snyder,  aged  nineteen." 

Not  long  after,  strange,  yellow,  bearded 
men  iu  faded  blue  began  to  arrive. 
Great  welcomes  were  given  them  ;  and  at 
422 


Bbrabam  Xincoln 


the  regular  Wednesday  eveniug  prayer- 
meeting  thanksgivings  were  poured  out 
for  their  safe  return,  with  names  of  com- 
pany and  regiment  duly  mentioned  for 
the  Lord's  better  identification.  Bees 
were  held  for  some  of  these  returned 
farmers,  where  twenty  teams  and  fifty 
men,  old  and  young,  did  a  season's  farm 
work  in  a  day,  and  split  enough  wood  for 
a  year.  At  such  times  the  women  would 
bring  big  baskets  of  provisions  and  long 
tables  would  be  set,  and  there  were  very 
jolly  times,  with  cracking  of  many  jokes 
that  were  veterans,  and  the  day  would 
end  with  pitching  horse-shoes,  and  at 
last  with  singing  "  Auld  Lang  Syne." 

It  was  at  one  such  gathering  that  a 
ghost  appeared — a  lank,  saffron  ghost, 
ragged  as  a  scarecrow — wearing  a  foolish 
smile  and  the  cape  of  a  cavalryman's 
overcoat  with  no  coat  beneath  it.  The 
apparition  was  a  youth  of  about  twenty, 
with  a  downy  beard  all  over  his  face,  and 
countenance  well  mellowed  with  coal 
soot,  as  though  he  had  ridden  several 
423 


Bbrabam  Xincoln 


days  on  top  of  a  freight-car  that  was  near 
the  engine. 

This  ghost  was  Hiram  Snyder. 

All  forgave  him  the  shock  of  surprise 
he  caused  us — all  except  the  minister  who 
had  preached  his  funeral  sermon.  Years 
after  I  heard  this  minister  remark  in  a 
solemn,  grieved  tone  :  "  Hiram  Snyder  is 
a  man  who  cannot  be  relied  on." 


4^4 


V. 


As  the  years  pass,  the  miracle  of  the 
seasons  means  less  to  us.  But 
what  country  boy  can  forget  the 
turning  of  the  leaves  from  green  to  gold, 
and  the  watchings  and  waitings  for  the 
first  hard  frost  that  ushers  in  the  nutting 
season  !  And  then  the  first  fall  of  snow, 
with  its  promise  of  skates  and  sleds  and 
tracks  of  rabbits,  and  mayhap  bears,  and 
strange  animals  that  only  come  out  at 
night,  and  that  no  human  eye  has  ever 
seen  ! 

Beautiful  are  the  seasons  ;  and  glad  I 
am  that  I  have  not  yet  quite  lost  my  love 
for  each.  But  now  they  parade  past  with 
a  curious  swiftness  !  They  look  at  me  out 
of  wistful  eyes,  and  sometimes  one  calls 
to  me  as  she  goes  by  and  asks,  "  Why 
have  you  done  so  little  since  I  saw  you 
425 


abrabam  Xincoiti 


last  ?  "      And  I  can  only  answer,  "I  was 
thinking  of  you." 

I  do  not  need  another  incarnation  tolive 
my  life  over  again.  I  can  do  that  now, 
and  the  resurrection  of  the  past,  through 
memory,  that  sees  through  closed  eyes,  is 
just  as  satisfactory  as  the  thing  itself. 

Were  we  talking  of  the  seasons  ?  Very 
well,  dearie,  the  seasons  it  shall  be.  They 
are  all  charming,  but  if  I  were  to  wed  any 
it  would  be  spring.  How  well  I  remem- 
ber the  gentle  perfume  of  her  comings, 
and  her  warm,  languid  breath  ! 

There  was  a  time  when  I  would  go  out 
of  the  house  some  morning,  and  the  snow 
would  be  melting,  and  spring  would  kiss 
my  cheek,  and  then  I  would  be  all  aglow 
with  joy  and  would  burst  into  the  house, 
and  cry:  "Spring  is  here!  spring  is 
here!"  For  you  know  we  always  have 
to  divide  our  joy  with  someone.  One 
can  bear  grief,  but  it  takes  two  to  be  glad. 

And  then  my  mother  would  smile 
and  say,  "Yes,  my  son,  but  do  not  wake 
the  baby  !  " 

426 


u 


A<ryCZi^    <^-;t/wCC  .^Ajt-Cou^   iSU   #v  j4-ii^»-^/tA««W 

FACSIMILE  OF  LINCOLN'S  GETTVSBURG   ADDKLSS, 


<^ii..^.Cr»*—  /:^<y    Ot.r^^-^'-'O,    #JW/^J-«-«-o  a^^^A-f^c^ 
fh^vt^  -^Tiff^  I'^'^iCtr  -p^ty  »Ola<J  -#w-iJ3,    JxTM-^^i 


t,j~tj  ^Ki^j^  -^jijf^^  /u-ur^i^  Jb^^- ^::^tj^  oi'iA.iy  fi-^-eO 


.Uyt.,„U^  ■^^tf'^i    /-^rufe/  /K»-if^  o^  (Ir^M-  .^tvZ^ 


£y  P^    kjLr^^Ju,  ^-f:^  hjur^fjio  /-^Mjejit  (h^^Aa^ 


O 


Bbrabam  Xincoln 


Then  I  would  go  out  and  watch  the 
snow  turn  to  water,  and  run  down  the 
road  iu  little  rivulets  to  the  creek,  that 
would  swell  until  it  became  a  regular  Mis- 
sissippi, so  that  when  we  waded  the  horse 
across,  the  water  would  come  to  the 
saddle-girth. 

Then  once,  I  remember,  the  bridge  was 
washed  away,  and  all  the  teams  had  to  go 
around  and  through  the  water,  and  some 
used  to  get  stuck  in  the  mud  on  the  other 
bank.     It  was  great  fun  ! 

The  first  "spring  beauties"  bloomed 
very  early  that  year  ;  violets  came  out  on 
the  south  side  of  rotting  logs,  and  cow- 
slips blossomed  in  the  slough  as  they 
never  had  done  before.  Over  on  the 
knoll,  prairie  chickens  strutted  pom- 
pously and  proudly  drummed. 

The  war  was  over  !  Lincoln  had  won, 
and  the  country  was  safe  ! 

The  jubilee  was  infectious,  and  the 
neighbors  who  used  to  come  and  visit  us 
would  tell  of  the  men  and  boys  who  would 
soon  be  back. 

427 


Bbrabam  Lincoln 


The  war  was  over  ! 

My  father  and  mother  talked  of  it 
across  the  table,  and  the  men  talked  of  it 
at  the  store,  and  earth,  sky,  and  water 
called  to  each  other  in  glad  relief,  "  The 
war  is  over  !  " 

But  there  came  a  morning  when  my 
father  walked  up  from  the  railroad-sta- 
tion very  fast,  and  looking  very  serious. 
He  pushed  right  past  me  as  I  sat  in 
the  doorway.  I  followed  him  into  the 
kitchen  where  my  mother  was  washing 
dishes,  and  heard  him  say,  "They  have 
killed  Lincoln  !"  and  then  he  burst  into 
tears. 

I  had  never  before  seen  my  father  shed 
tears — in  fact  I  had  never  seen  a  man  cry. 
There  is  something  terrible  in  the  grief 
of  a  man. 

Soon  the  church-bell  across  the  road 
began  to  toll.  It  tolled  all  that  day. 
Three  men — I  can  give  you  their  names — 
rang  the  bell  all  day  long,  tolling,  slowly 
tolling,  tolling  until  night  came  and  the 
stars  came  out.  I  thought  it  a  little  curi- 
428 


Bbrabam  Xincoln 


ons  tbat  the  stars  should  come  out,  for 
Ivincoln  was  dead;  but  they  did,  for  I  saw 
them  as  I  trotted  by  my  father's  side 
down  to  the  post-office. 

There  was  a  great  crowd  of  men  there. 
At  the  long  line  of  peeled  hickory  hitch- 
ing poles  were  dozens  of  saddle-horses. 
The  farmers  had  come  for  miles  to  get 
details  of  the  news. 

On  the  long  counters  that  ran  down 
each  side  of  the  store  men  were  seated, 
swinging  their  feet,  and  listening  intently 
to  someone  who  was  reading  aloud  from 
a  newspaper.  We  worked  our  way  past 
the  men  who  were  standing  about,  and 
with  several  of  these  my  father  shook 
hands  solemnly. 

Leaning  against  the  wall  near  the  win- 
dow was  a  big,  red-faced  man,  whom  I 
knew  as  a  Copperhead.  He  had  been 
drinking,  evidently,  for  he  was  making 
boozy  efforts  to  stand  very  straight. 
There  were  only  heard  a  subdued  buzz  of 
whispers  and  the  monotonous  voice  of 
the  reader,  as  he  stood  there  in  the  cen- 
429 


Bbrnbam  Hincoln 


tre,  his  newspaper  in  one  hand  and  a 
lighted  candle  in  the  other. 

The  red-faced  man  lurched  two  steps 
forward,  and  in  a  loud  voice  said  :  "  L — 
L — Lincoln  is  dead, — an'  I  'm  damn  glad 
ofit!" 

Across  the  room  I  saw  two  men  strug- 
gling with  Little  Ramsey.  Why  they 
should  struggle  with  him  I  could  not  im- 
agine, but  ere  I  could  thiuk  the  matter 
out,  I  saw  him  shake  himself  loose  from 
the  strong  hands  that  sought  to  hold  him. 
He  sprang  upon  the  counter,  and  in  one 
hand  I  saw  he  held  a  scale-weight.  Just 
an  instant  he  stood  there,  and  then  the 
weight  shot  straight  at  the  red-faced  man. 
The  missile  glanced  on  his  shoulder  and 
shot  through  the  window.  In  another 
second  the  red-faced  man  plunged 
through  the  window,  taking  the  entire 
sash  with  him. 

"  You  '11  have  to  pay  for  that  window," 
called  the  alarmed  postmaster  out  into 
the  night. 

The  store  was  quickly  emptied,  and  on 
430 


Bbrabam  ILincolii 


following  outside  no  trace  of  the  red  man 
could  be  found.  The  earth  had  swal- 
lowed both  the  man  and  the  five-pound 
scale-weight. 

After  some  minutes  had  passed  in  a 
vain  search  for  the  weight  and  the  Cop- 
perhead, we  went  back  into  the  store  and 
the  reading  was  continued. 

But  the  interruption  had  relieved  the 
tension,  and  for  the  first  time  that  day 
men  in  that  post-ofiice  joked  and  laughed. 
It  even  lifted  from  my  heart  the  gloom 
that  threatened  to  smother  me,  and  I 
went  home  and  told  the  story  to  my 
mother  and  sisters,  and  they  too  smiled, 
so  closely  akin  are  tears  and  smiles. 


431 


IV 

THE  story  of  Lincoln's  life  had  been 
ingrained  into  uie  long  before  I 
ever  read  a  book.  For  the  peo- 
ple who  knew  Lincoln,  and  the  peo- 
ple who  knew  the  people  that  Lincoln 
knew,  were  the  only  people  I  knew.  I 
visited  at  their  houses  and  heard  them 
tell  what  Lincoln  had  said  when  he  sat 
at  table  where  I  then  sat.  I  listened  long 
to  Lincoln  stories,  "and  that  reminds 
me "  was  often  on  the  lips  of  those  I 
loved.  All  the  tales  told  by  the  faithful 
Herndon  and  the  needlessly  loyal  Nicolay 
and  Hay  were  current  coin,  and  the  re- 
hearsal of  the  Lincoln-Douglas  debate 
was  commonplace. 

When  our  own  poverty  was  mentioned, 
we   compared   it  with  the   poverty   that 
Lincoln  had  endured,    and  felt   rich.     I 
432 


2lStabam  aitncoln 


slept  in  a  garret  where  the  winter's  snow 
used  to  sift  merrily  through  the  slab 
shingles,  but  then  I  was  covered  with 
warm  buffalo  robes,  and  a  loving  mother 
tucked  me  in  and  on  my  forehead  im- 
printed a  good-night  kiss.  But  Lincoln  at 
the  same  age  had  no  mother  and  lived  in  a 
hut  that  had  neither  windows,  doors,  nor 
floor,  and  a  pile  of  leaves  and  straw  in  the 
corner  was  his  bed.  Our  house  had  two 
rooms,  but  one  winter  the  Lincoln  home 
was  only  a  shed  enclosed  on  three  sides. 
I  knew  of  his  being  a  clerk  iu  a  country 
store  at  the  age  of  twenty,  and  that  up 
to  that  time  he  had  read  but  four  books  ; 
of  his  running  a  flat-boat,  splitting  rails, 
and  poring  at  night  over  a  dog-eared  law- 
book ;  of  his  asking  to  sleep  in  the  law 
office  of  Joshua  Speed,  and  of  Speed's 
giving  him  permission  to  move  in.  And 
of  his  going  away  after  his  "  worldly 
goods  "  and  coming  back  in  ten  minutes 
carrying  an  old  pair  of  saddle-bags  which 
he  threw  into  a  corner  saying,  "Speed, 
I  've  moved  !  " 

433 


atjrabam  Xtncoln 


I  knew  of  his  twenty  years  of  country 
law-practice,  when  he  was  considered 
just  about  as  good  and  no  better  than  a 
dozen  others  on  that  circuit,  and  of  his 
making  a  bare  living  during  the  time. 
Then  I  knew  of  his  gradually  awakening 
to  the  wrong  of  slavery,  of  the  expansion 
of  his  mind,  so  that  he  began  to  incur 
the  jealousy  of  rivals  and  the  hatred  of 
enemies,  and  of  the  prophetic  feeling  in 
that  slow-  but  sure-moving  mind  that  "  A 
house  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand. 
I  believe  this  Government  cannot  endure 
permanently  half  slave  and  half  free." 

I  knew  of  the  debates  with  Douglas 
and  the  national  attention  they  attracted, 
and  of  Judge  Davis's  remark,  "  Lincoln 
has  more  common-sense  than  any  man 
in  America"  ;  and  then,  chiefly  through 
Judge  Davis's  influence,  of  his  being  nom- 
inated for  President  at  the  Chicago  Con- 
vention. I  knew  of  his  election,  and 
the  coming  of  the  war,  and  the  long, 
hard  fight,  when  friends  and  foes  beset 
and  none  but  he  had  the  patience  and 
434 


Bbiabam  Xlncoln 


the  courage  that  could  wait.  And  then  I 
knew  of  his  death,  that  death  which  then 
seemed  a  calamity — terrible  in  its  awful 
blackness. 

But  now  the  years  have  passed,  and  I 
comprehend  somewhat  of  the  paradox  of 
things,  and  I  know  that  this  death  was 
just  what  he  might  have  prayed  for.  It 
was  a  fitting  close  for  a  life  that  had 
done  a  supreme  and  mighty  work. 

His  face  foretold  the  end. 

Lincoln  had  no  home  ties.  In  that 
plain,  frame  house,  without  embellished 
yard  or  ornament,  where  I  have  been  so 
often,  there  was  no  love  that  held  him 
fast.  In  that  house  there  was  no  library, 
but  in  the  parlor,  where  six  haircloth 
chairs  and  a  slippery  sofa  to  match  stood 
guard,  was  a  marble  table  on  which  were 
various  gift-books  in  blue  and  gilt.  He 
only  turned  to  that  home  when  there  was 
no  other  place  to  go.  Politics,  with  its 
attendant  travel  and  excitement,  allowed 
him  to  forget  the  what-might-have-beens. 
Foolish  bickering,  silly  pride,  and  stupid 
435 


abrabam  Xincoln 


misunderstanding  pushed  him  out  upon 
the  streets  and  he  sought  to  lose  himself 
among  the  people.  And  to  the  people 
at  length  he  gave  his  time,  his  talents, 
his  love,  his  life.  Fate  look  from  him 
his  home  that  the  country'  might  call  him 
savior.  Dire  tragedy  was  a  fitting  end ; 
for  only  the  souls  who  have  suffered  are 
well  loved. 

Jealousy,  disparagement,  calumny, 
have  all  made  way  and  North  and  South 
alike  revere  his  name. 

The  memory  of  his  gentleness,  his 
patience,  his  firm  faith,  and  his  great  and 
loving  heart  are  the  priceless  heritage  of 
a  united  land.  He  had  charity  for  all 
and  malice  toward  none  ;  he  gave  affec- 
tion, and  affection  is  his  reward. 

Honor  and  love  are  his. 


436 


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